Hectran eyes Gourd ( @Dreyy ) coolly. Like most monks he has an almost preternatural composure. If the half-orc's grandiose display has amused him, he doesn't show it. His pale grey eyes stare unblinking from beneath his lightly furrowed brow.
"A fight against one of our training dummies?" he murmurs. Gourd finds that he must come closer to even hear the man's soft voice. He towers over Hectran by a good head and a half, but something tells Gourd he might now want to cross the monk. His compact body looks as solid as steel and those grey eyes never seem to blink.
"That sounds rather boring to me," the monk continues. "They just sit there. Wouldn't you prefer something a bit more lively?"
He approaches the nearest dummy.
"Perhaps we can remedy the situation," he murmurs. His adjusts his robes and stands squarely before the wooden figure. Raising his hand in front of the dummy's expressionless face, he traces a glowing symbol into its forehead. The wooden manikin shudders, then shrugs its shoulders. It jumps abruptly into a fighting stance, its fists quivering in front of it.
"You see," the monk explains with the faintest hint of a smile, "These are no ordinary sparring dummies. This is a wood golem, and it will put up a fight."
The golem dances about gracefully, kicking the air and executing a pair of flawless back flips.
"A much more interesting match, I think," the monk nods. "Get ready, Master Gourd!"
The thud of wood pounding on sand fills the practice ring as the golem charges the half-orc.
*******
In the arena
Seeing his skeletons methodically disassembled by Kang's ( @Heindrich ) dragon, the necromancer snarls in rage. He murmurs another spell, and a globe of crackling silvery light springs up around him. Just as he has uttered the lasts words of the spell, the dragon wheels and bears down on him. The claws glance harmlessly off of the elf's stone carapace but a gout of flame streams over his left arm and he howls in agony. The second the flames touch him a burst of energy recoils from his body.
A contingency spell, Kang realizes.
The magic threads and coils its way up toward the ceiling, where it forms a mass of dark, threatening clouds. A handful of snow flurries drift gracefully into the ring.
A second later, a deluge of razor-sharp icicles, massive hailstones, and clods of snow the size of small children pours down from above.
A pair of jagged icicles slash the dragon's skin, sending droplets of blood scattering across the quickly accumulating snow. Kang manages to dodge a hailstone as big as his head but a clump of snow slams into his shoulder. If it were just snow, there wouldn't have been much to worry about short of a few bruises. But this is magical cold. It sends agony shooting through his body as parts of his flesh are instantly frozen.
The necromancer just laughs as the snow and ice glances harmlessly off of his magical shield.
The necromancer cast Spell Immunity: Evocation as @Heindrich 's dragon was crunching his skeleton into little bits. The contingency, triggered by taking damage, unleashed Ice Storm. As long as he's protected by Spell Immunity the necromancer can just sit back and watch everyone else take damage. Now (in a mob boss voice), if someone something unfortunate were to happen to that spell protection, he would be forced to eat his own ice...
*******
@Anduin . The following information regards your wishes:
1. Staff of the Magi. You receive a staff which was created by some magi. The purpose of the staff's creation? To spice up their bizarre parties. The staff has the following abilities: - Glitterdust 3x/day - Summon stripper 1x/day - Transmute Water to Wine: Unlimited - Additionally, anyone wielding the staff is exceptionally good at dancing.
2. Bag of Unlimited credits: In your pockets is a bag full of credits that never gets empty. Fortunately, they seem to be credits for Kalesra's House of Fortune rather than some distant gambling den in the frozen North. Unfortunately, they are cursed with bad luck. It is impossible to win any game that these tokens are wagered on. Your mummy isn't going to realize that yet though....
3. Chosen of Mystra: You feel a small creature scurrying around in your pocket. It's a little white rat which seems to be some other mage's former familiar. She's capable of very basic communication. Her name is Mystra, she explains to you through the telepathic bond you suddenly share. Her old master thought it was a clever name (which may have something to do with his sudden disappearance). She has chosen you. She's rather clingy. And squirmy.
Folding his arms and rubbing his chin, Gourd watches Hectran ( @Kalesra ) awaken the sleeping wood golem, despite the creatures flimsy look it seems quite agile and nimble for something made of wood. Gourd takes the moment to watch it a moment longer before suddenly raising one fist in the air and pointing another at the wooden golem.
"Ho! Wooden foe with legs! Yes! I, Gourd, find this a much more suitable opponent kicky man!"
He turns and looks to the crowd, growing larger with the emergence of the wooden golem, he points at them and ends with a muscle flex, especcialy aimed at the pretty ladies now watching from the side lines.
"Ho! Good people! You shall now see the mighty... the powerful... the dashing... the masterful... the elegent... HooooooOOOO! Gourd Heavy-Fist Master in the Art of the Way of the Punchy Fi-"
Before Gourd can finish his crowd pleasing speech the wooden golem charges him and lands several solid punchs and with one fatal punch directly to the jaw of the unexpecting Half-Orc. The resulting impact sends him skidding and bouncing along the sand floor landing at the other end of the Arena, he lays there motionless for moment before sitting up and clutching his cheek, tear drops in each eye, the crowd burst into laughter.
"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" he repeats while kicking the sand.
He fishes around in his mouth and pulls out a tooth which was dislodged with the punch, he looks at it with an almost broken hearted look before flicking it to the sand. The roaring of the crowds laughter are deafaning. However his eyes suddenly take on a dangerous tint and glares at the wooden golem with embers in his eyes. He jumps up and takes a posture which seems more appropriate for his bragging.
"Ho! You wooden foe have no honor! To strike an opponent unprepared is the greatest of insults!"
His fist punches and air kicks suddenly become more sharp and focussed.
"Ho! Now wooden foe, you shall SEE the strength of the Order of Punchy Fist!"
The crowd stop laughing and a sudden serious tone takes hold of the small practice arena. A moment passes then the Half-Orc charges at the wooden golem with startling speed , he leaps into the air doing flips and cartwheels with amazing perception and agility for such a bulky Half-Orc, as gravity takes it toll its clear his comming down directly on top of the wooden golem.
"FLYING MONKEY PAW!!" Gourd Yells.
The wooden golem blocks the attack but the sheer force of the impact splintters several inchs into its arm. He jumps back, taking a defensive posture. Gourd relentlessly continues his attack, seeminly growing in speed by the moment.
"RAVAGING TIGER CLAW!!" Gourd yells once again.
The speed of each of his punches are hard to follow, some are blocked by the wooden golem, while others connect with a force strong enough to shred wooden shards and splinters across the sand. A final kick pushes the wood golem back, bumping it up and down off the sand before it finally regains its composure and stops itself. In classic Golem fashion, it dousnt flinch, it mearly retakes its posture.
Kang (Heindrich) totally didn't need to read up about Spell Immunity and the different magic schools to figure out what to do next... XD
The agonising cold almost paralysed Kang physically, but it brought his mind back into sharp focus as the effects of the necromancer's previous curse lifted somewhat.
Kang recognised that the elven necromancer's Contigency had triggered an Ice Storm, which he himself was protected from thanks to some sort of magical shield, possibly Spell Immunity.
Well... we'll just have to do something about that won't we?
Kang uttered incantations alien to most of the patrons of Kalesra's House of Fortune, and his eyes momentarily flashed with power, but nothing obvious happened.
Suddenly Kang cried in pain as a sharp dagger of an ice shard slashed into his side, smashing through the protection of his Stoneskin. Kang's blood streaked across the now frozen arena, as he doubled over in agony. Almost simultaneously, the bubble of spell protection around Kang shone brightly... it seemed reinforced somehow, even more powerful, but within, Kang was frozen in mid-motion, apparently unable to move within his own protective wards.
Meanwhile his wounded Celestial Dragon, its rage further exacerbated by the pain of its injuries, bore down on the elven mage with fang and claw...
So Kang cast Secret Word (lv4 spell) in an attempt to dispel the Spell Immunity. (I have no idea what it looks like, as I've never actually cast it ingame )
He takes further damage from Ice Storm, which triggers his own Contingency, which is 25% hp, Oteluke's Sphere. Yes... he usually has a big brother and/or minions to save him when he gets into trouble, and forgot to adjust his contigency for personal combat...
A growing crowd gathers around the practice ring as Gourd ( @Dreyy ), previously a target of ridicule, demonstrates his formidable combat skills on the hapless golem. A pair of tittering girls leans over the barrier surrounding the arena, whispering to one another in conspiratorial tones. Gourd thinks he hears one of them murmuring a particularly scandalous rumor about the endowment of half-orcs. Or perhaps they were simply discussing the golem's wooden limbs...
The splintery creature has snapped back into a fighting stance, bobbing about as enthusiastically as before despite missing half of one arm and some sizable chunks of other body parts.
"Marvelous!" Hectran exclaims. "It seems that I have underestimated you. Well, you know what they say...sometimes you are your own greatest enemy!"
He says a few words in an unknown language and a second golem steps forth as the first bows out of combat, defeated.
Gourd bows at his new opponent. The golem bows back, its every movement precisely mirroring Gourd's. Gourd strikes his signature fighting stance. The golem mimics him. As the half-orc looks on in surprise, the golem begins to weave through the air in a series of intricate movements.
Could it be....?
Gourd realizes with shock that the golem is executing the Flying Monkey Paw!
*******
Meanwhile, in the arena...
There is a popping noise, like the sound of a balloon being deflated, and the necromancer's bitter laughter is abruptly cut short. His protective orb winks out of existence, the result of Kang's ( @Heindrich ) Magic Word. He screams an unintelligible curse. His own ice storm hits him like a hammer and he falls to his knees under the onslaught of frozen daggers.
The rush of beating wings catches his attention, turns his bloody face upward, and his eyes widen. His hands fly helplessly before him in a futile gesture of protection. The celestial dragon's claws shred the necromancer's arms into scarlet ribbons as another stream of flame boils the flesh on one side of his face. Trembling, screaming, pouring blood, the elf chokes out the words of a spell. Five darts of pure energy scream through the air and hit the dragon squarely. The creature is thrown back by the impact, giving the necromancer just enough time to regain his footing.
The elf murmurs another incantation. The dragon dodges a clod of ice, gets its bearings, and launches itself anew at its foe.
This time, the necromancer's bleeding hands dance with a pale, malevolent light. As the aura brushes the dragon's hide, the creature convulses violently. It tosses its head back and screams a silent scream as a gout of blood fountains from its toothy maw. The blood runs down its chest, then curls in crimson tendrils down the necromancer's arms. The dragon collapses on the arena floor. The ragged wounds covering the elf's body heal themselves as the blood flows over them. Smirking, he begins to utter another spell.
The elf just messed up your dragon and healed himself with Vampiric Touch. The dragon could still be alive. That's unlikely but I leave it up to you. A Wyvern has 7 hit dice + 7 HP so I'll assume your dragon has the same. Each round of ice storm (there were 2 so far, I think) does 2d8 damage, the skeletons probably put a dent in him, magic missile was 10-25, and vampiric touch does 6d6. So he took 15 + HD worth of damage. Could have gotten lucky though--again, up to you. The necromancer started with 38 HP, took 6 from the dragon's fire, 9 from one round of ice storm, and 20 from the last attack (claws and fire), then healed 19. So he's at 22. You don't need to do this HP stuff yourself, I just do it so I have an objective way of deciding when the necromancer has lost. Of course we aren't rolling attacks, saves, etc, so it isn't that strict. Just want to have some idea of where I'm at.
OOC: Hey, @Anduin and @Nonnahswriter, you guys' plot seems to be intertwined at the moment so I'm waiting for you to interact with one another--let me know, however, if you would like me to intervene in some way.
@CrevsDaak, you can also let me know if you want me to throw some sort of conflict at you.
And of course, I know everyone has limited time--I'm not trying to rush you at all, just seeing if you want some input from me.
OOC: @Kalesra I basically don't know what my quasit should do, I'm like in a "ideas gone" state of roleplaying. I have lots of free time right now (and it will end 10 march, when school starts again) and I'm mainly 50% of the time at the forums and playing/modding BG.
Alrighty then, @CrevsDaak. Idle hands are the Devil's Playground, they say...
It seemed that there was nothing else for the little quasit to do. His new mummy friend ( @Anduin) was staring slackjawed at a woman playing a lively tune on her violin. Boooooorrrrrrrriiiiiing. The fight taking place in the arena was loud and flashy, but even that could only hold a particularly jumpy imp's attention for so long...
"Ooooh. What is that thing?" a high-pitched voice exclaims from somewhere behind Ox'Ym'Oron. A cloud of perfumed air descends on him. A pair of hands wrapped in silk gloves close around his small body and he is turned around to face his assailant. Her hair is piled high on her head and decked with odd little ornaments, glittering with small jewels. Her eyes are heavily painted.
"Oh my goodness, put it down," her equally gaudy companion squeals. "It looks like a deformed little man! It's filthy, and it probably bites!"
"Oh come," the woman who has Ox'Ym'Oron firmly in her grip coos. "It's soooo cute. Look at its little eyes! Look at its little wings!"
She flutters her fingers about under the quasit's chin--he supposes it's an attempt to tickle him.
"Stop!" the other woman insists. "It looks dangerous!"
"And indeed it is," a confident male voice chimes in. A foppish young man in a silken robe of brilliant blue and gold has joined the two ladies and fixes their new plaything with a malevolent glare. He strokes his goateed chin dramatically. "That, dear ladies, is none other than a mephit--a vile little demon from the very abyss! It may be small but it can expand its toothy little mouth to astonishing proportions and will surely devour you if given the slightest chance!"
The two women gasp--the one holding the misidentified quasit quickly releases him and brushes her gloved hands off on the folds of her dress with a distasteful expression. The young man produces a wand from a robe pocket and points it squarely at Ox'Ym'Oron's angular nose.
"Never fear!" he exclaims. "I shouldn't like to brag, but I am well known for my magical prowess. I shall have no trouble dispatching this little beast!"
You may have already gathered that he's not nearly as good of a mage as he thinks he is, but of course, the quasit doesn't necessarily know that...
"I'm not a beast, I'm a demon! Besides I worked for the Baatezu so I am considered a traitor for my people." "Also, if you mind to stop pointing that thing to my nose, I'm not going to eat the wand, they taste awfully and they hurt my teeth!"
*Ox'Ym drops to the ground and walks (crawls) away*
OOC: what is the Wand of? Quasits are naturally immune to fire, cold and electricity. My Quasit has 8 Wisdom, so, yes, he can't tell the difference between an apple and a pear, so I suspect that we won't realize tha the mage isn't very experienced.
Aaaagh! Just wrote a little roleplay and lost it all due to having too many windows open! Anyway... starting again, Decane ( @Nonnahswriter ) has charmed me... Her wish is my command...
*Anduin stares slacked jawed at Decane... Anduin has never been fiddled with before... And Decane is fiddling away quite majestically... A strange, urge, overcomes Anduin... An urge he has not felt for over 6000 years... An urge to impress this female... Yes... He will impress this female... For reasons, just beyond his grasp... If only he could remember... Ah, YES! For DATES! Anduin will impress this female for dates! He will forgo his love of culinary vegetables and taste the forbidden fruits! He will impress this female and she in return will lavish him in... DATES! He will suck and suck the juices and feast upon the succulent flesh and he will make a Stone Golem from their... Stones... He will never go without a wholesome fibrous date ever, ever again and he will go regularly for evermore...*
Has the spring holding your jaw together gone or are you trying to lure a passing party of adventuring Pixies into thinking your cake 'ole is a portal into another dimension?
*Anduin snaps out of it only to stare into the eye's of a white rat sitting on his shoulder*
My name is Mystra, and I chose you to be my master... Do not be afraid unwise one as I am talking to you telepath~
Shut it ratface!
*Decane immediately stops fiddling*
Did I say that out loud?
Yep... Way to go on the impressing the girl front...
Was I asking you?...
*Decane, not hearing the telepathically talking rat, only Anduin's outbursts gives a hurt look*
Err... Sorry... I was talking to my rat... Errm
I prefer the term, magi rodenti...
*Anduin swiftly recovers and bows low*
Allow me to introduce myself... I am Anduin of the living four...
You know... technically, now it's the dead three and the undead you
...And I have seen many wonders on my travels. A dragon hatching from it's egg, A tear of Selune falling from the sky and a formian worker tickling a dire aphid's belly so it squeezes out a drop of the sweetest dew from its... bum...
Where are you going with this? Why did I choose you!?!
But nothing, can be as sweet or as beautiful as your eye's and countenance...
...better... I approve... just don't say bum again!
Your eye's and bum... *Anduin winces* are... are... perfect and round and...
*Anduin stands tall, flicks the rat from his shoulder...*
M'lady... allow me to become your humble servant... your eternal admirer...
*Anduin reaches into his bag of unlimited coins and carelessly scatters credits before her*
Money is no object...
*Anduin casts improved haste on himself*
Time is no barrier...
*Anduin collects all the coins and piles them into an impressive pyramidal arrangement in front of her, he then fills her one free hand with a flower arrangement stolen from a table found at the other end of the tent... all in an eye-blink*
Your wish, my lady, is my command...
*With a final flourish, Anduin once again bows low... Decane looks down at the flowers, then at the mummie non-plussed*
You owe me vast plate of cheese for this mummie... a vast plate bigger than this tent...
*Mystra the rat walks in-between Anduin and Decane, gives the mummie a glare, before curtsying and dancing a waltz with a napkin*
...
*Decane squeals with joy and delight clearly impressed with the familiars antics...*
I'd had this set aside for awhile, but the song lyrics always stumped me... Just assume this went on before Anduin's post, and I'll line it up with his.
I also just got done cleaning the house the last couple hours and my brain hurts from cleaning chemicals. Writing gods, forgive me...
"Hey, it worked!" Decane was so pleased with herself as she watched the drooling mummy lull about, she almost lost her tune. Her bow skidded across the G-string at the wrong moment, and she winced at her mistake, but with a quick strum of her fingers, she righted the melody.
"I mean... Of course it worked. Silly me. Haha... Why wouldn't it?"
The rest of the crowd seemed to like her song. People were clapping to the beat as a circle of bobbing bodies encircled her. Decane's eyes lit up with the fires of performance; now this was the life of a bard, all eyes on her with music flowing through the air!
Their beat was infectious as it warmed her legs. She danced in place and played faster, hopping and kicking on the tips and balls of her feet. With a deep breath, she began to sing.
"I was never one to charm a mummy Whose eyes were gone and limbs a-boney, A jaw all slack and rotten black, And a smell the flies themselves would flee! But he is not so bad, you see, As he takes a bow and dance for me!"
Right on cue, the mummy shuddered to a new life and began to dance. His moves were rickety, a tad clumsy, but he seemed to be enjoying himself. He would not take his eyes off her, or at least, she thought they were eyes. Twas hard to see under those layers of bandages.
Suddenly, he stopped and stood still, looking at the sky. Decane pouted. What broke the spell?
"Shut it, ratface!"
Appalled, Decane's bow slipped on the wrong string again, a harsh shriek. She winced, and glared at the mummy.
"Ratface?" she asked.
"Did I say that out loud?" the mummy muttered with the scratch of his head. "Was I asking you...?"
"I don't know, were you?" Decane was getting mad now. Somehow, the mummy had broken free of her music, and he dared to call her a ratface? She certainly did not have a ratface! Her face was round, smooth, tanned! She was pretty, darn it!
Though the mummy seemed to shrink sheepishly under her glare. "Err... Sorry... I was talking to my rat... Erm..."
Oh. Decane tilted her head once, and caught the glint of a tiny white form on his shoulder, a slim tail wrapped around its body. Well, that explained it.
"Allow me to introduce myself... I am Anduin of the living four..."
Decane listened to his introduction. A tiny voice tugged the back of her mind--"Shouldn't he be Anduin of the Un-living Four?"--but she silenced it at the mention of his travels, his tales, the things he'd seen! She'd never seen a dragon hatch. Heck, she'd never seen a dragon period. It was clear where he was going with this, his stumbling flirtations and compliments. She giggled once. Maybe this mummy wasn't so bad after all. She'd never met one that could do more than groan.
She watched the dancing mouse on the napkin with a delightful squeal as she struggled to carry her fiddle, the flowers, and the bundle of coins in her arms. Just the sight of the lively animal nearly made her drop them. Nearly.
"She's so cute!" Decane laughed, "I'm sorry I got mad at you mummy. I guess you're not evil after all."
As sharps of ice and a biting blizzard continued to rain down in the arena, Kang stood motionless in the protection of his arcane sphere, which repelled the magical bombardment, shielding him from further harm.
More learned members of the audience would recognise the sphere as an Oteluke's Sphere, a powerful arcane protection that made Kang almost impervious to harm, but also rendered him unable to move or cast spells of his own. In the chaos of massed combat, it was a good spell to protect an injured comrade, or harmlessly disable an enemy. But in single combat, it totally left Kang at the mercy of his enemy's next move... almost.
Kang's familiar ferret forwards darted forwards with incredible speed as the Celestial Dragon roared its final defiant challenge, a jet of flame engulfing the necromancer, before collapsing, dead, as the scores of wounds it suffered took its life.
Dodging the deadly ice storm with incredible agility, the ferret leapt into attack, biting and clawing at the necromancer...
Kang is obviously totally disabled by Oteluke's Sphere. XD It's up to his ferret now... and up to you the DM to determine if he wins or loses this one.
Gourd's eyes narrow as he watches Hectran ( @Kalesra ) begin to weave a magical incantation or some form of awakening command at another motionless training dummy off to his rear. Within moment the wooden construct bursts to life while its damaged twin bows and leaves its position. The growing crowd gasps and jeers at the arrival of the second training construct, content he can take another opponent, Gourd bellows a loud laugh and sticks two fingers up to the crowd.
"Ho! I, Gourd, have more than enough energy to break and shatter the kicky mans wooden toys good people! Ho!" he turns and points towards Hectran.
"HaaHaa! Kicky man your wooden dolls are no match for I, Gourd! HO!"
Gourd notices this new opponent take an all too familar fighting stance followed by motion of similar move sets, some even performed more sharply than the Half-Orcs. The wooden construct leaps into the air, falling and tumbling towards Gourd, just before the move hits Gourd relises with shock.
"Is that...? Flying monkey pa-"
The move strikes, Gourd manages to get himself into a defensive position and prevent the strike from landing with fall force. Despite this the move shockinly carries enough power to knock the air out of the Half-Orc causing him to reel back slightly allowing the wooden construct to follow through with stirn strike to Gourd's chest, knocking him back across the sand.
These turn of events causes the crowd to roar loudly, clapping and banging the railings though if they were cheering for Gourd or the construct or just at the whole performance it isnt known. Gourd pushes himself up from the sand and rubs his chest, despite his green skin a clearly visable red mark appears. He attempts several diffrent offensive and defensive positions and watches as the wooden construct perfectly matches each one with its counter. Stopping, the Half-Orc relaxes, folding one arm and begins to rub his chin thoughtfully with the other. A moment passes until finally Gourd raises one fist to the air and points at the wooden contstruct. A strangly wide grin on his face.
"Ho! I, Gourd, now understand! The wooden foe too is a master in the way of the Punchy fist!" Gourd places his hands on his hips and puffs his chest out.
"Ho! I have not met another honored member for many years! Where did you train wooden foe? I do not recall you at the monastry!"
The crowd falls silent and ponders Gourd's words, a very verbal long winded sigh bellows from some of the on-lookers. Clearly Gourd has misinterpreted the wooden consruct's mimic ability,
@Kalesra could we roll to decide if Mystra the rat is male or female? 1 - 2 Boy, 3 - 4 Girl, 5 - 6, Unknown by everyone including Mystra, the Rodenti Magi.
@Nonnahswriter you have charmed me at a most opportune moment... I have a wish... Any wish I ask for comes true... YOUR wish is my command... So name it! Perhaps it could be the start of a quest for me... I have unlimited cursed credits... Gambling now is pointless... (although maybe I will... But @Kalesra will no longer need to roll for me... Because I will lose everytime. I will however need a DM decision on what happens on the Deck of many bad things could happen... Will I get another random or will I get the worst possible scenario? Death... Which can't really effect me anyway... But still...
And what about food or drink? Is that okay... Or will that somehow be cursed... Not that undead mummies drink or eat, but I may buy stuff for other members... And what about buying stuff?
Lastly, I can't find out what @Kalesra decides as that would spoil everything! Just a heads up for our DM.
I really liked how you handled the wishes @Kalesra ... I was thinking on similar lines (my staff was going to be a plain old wooden staff once belonging to Maggie, Mystra had chosen me to be her advisor on undead magic users and would keep asking me for log reports on Liches and I was going to get lots of gold, unusable in the tent... But your ideas much better!
*The Rat finishes by dancing up the Mummies arm, who is still bowing, and leaping from his head, transforming the napkin into a parachute, before bowing in exact mimickery of his/her master... The crowd wildly applaud the antics of the beautiful bard, the charming rat and the "not so bad after all" mummie...*
I prefer mature chedder... I also prefer it in huge piles... as quick as possible...
The blue-robed mageling mutters the wand's activation word and a single dart of glowing magical energy streaks from its tip and strikes the quasit squarely in the behind. The little creature yips in pain as a small plume of steam issues from the impact site.
"Take that, demon!" the mage yells triumphantly. He aims the wand again. This time, only silence follows the command word. The mage shakes the wand about with a grimace of irritation.
"Damn it to the hells!" he growls. The imp looks none the worse for wear and in fact, the magic missile seems mainly to have provoked his annoyance. His teeth are bared as he swoops toward the mage. The man's hands shakily attempt to trace out some sort of spell but his efforts result a few sparks and the reek of ozone as the magic fizzles. He turns around and unceremoniously begins to run in the other direction, only to trip on his robes and land flat on his face.
The guy just shot you in the unmentionables with a magic missile. Are you gonna let that slide? Kick his ass!
*******
In the combat arena
The dragon heaves its last breath and a plume of flames rolls over the cackling necromancer. The elf screams in pain. Onlookers standing behind him flinch as his robe burns itself into his back and the searing flesh releases the foul scent of singed meat. Gathering his composure, the necromancer begins to intone the words of another spell--but he is cut short by the squeals of Kang's ( @Heindrich )familiar.
It goes for the eyes.
"EeeeekEEEEEEEEK!!!!!"
The ferret's tiny claws do a bloody dance across the elf's face. The necromancer quickly catches hold of the animal's tail, and with a brisk motion he hurls it across the ring. It hits the magical barrier, slides to the floor, and runs about in dizzied circles, trying to relocate its target in the chaos of the arena. But the damage has already been done. Blood flows into the necromancer's eyes. He stumbles, trips over his own feet. He lands on his back and a massive icicle lands point-first in the center of his chest, impaling him before he can roll out of the way. With a hideous gurgle, he convulses a few times and falls still.
The arena priest leaps into the ring and immediately begins chanting a resurrection spell. The crowd erupts into cheers.
"We have a winner!" Nasreen cries. "Kang is the victor of this challenge!" She raises her sword high and a small shockwave runs through the ring, immediately ending the shower of ice and dispelling Kang's sphere.
Another priest approaches the sorcerer and speaks the words of a healing spell. A gentle blue light washes over Kang and his wounds seal over and disappear. The necromancer is on his feet again as well, though he looks even paler and sicklier than before and his robes are in tatters. He shoots his opponent the compulsory sneer of disdain and hobbles out of the ring, leaning on the priest's arm.
"Here you are." Nasreen hands Kang a promissory note for 120 credits. "I know you entered the ring for the challenge and not for the credits, but our rules state you're entitled to them. You can claim them at the main desk anytime you like."
The ice did 12 damage, the fire did 11, and the ferret did 1, for a total of 24.
@Anduin, there are spoilers within spoilers here (fancy!) so you can safely peek inside of the first layer of tags and decide from there what you want to know and what you don't. Most of it is harmless.
Regarding the rat's gender:
I rolled a 4, so she's female.
Regarding the cursed coins for the Deck of Many Things
Losing doesn't necessarily mean a horrible outcome. It just means you get a card with a lower value. Sometimes the lower-valued cards are actually less dangerous. If you get a higher card than the opponent, I will simply roll again until your card is lower. The outcome of that card will then be applied as usual.
Food and drink
Most light refreshments are complementary (it keeps the patrons gambling). The fancier food and drink is purchased with normal gold, so the credits don't affect this.
Bear in mind, you still have 10 normal credits which can be spent as usual, but you may have already gotten these mixed up with the others.
Also, glad you appreciate your wishes. I like your ideas as well, especially the one about doing Mystra's menial clerical work. This way though, you have a fabulous staff instead of a plain one .
Practice ring
As Gourd ( @Dreyy ) strokes his chin thoughtfully, the golem raises its hand to its chin in the same gesture. Having no mouth, it merely stares blankly in response to the half-orc's questions.
"He's the strong silent type," Hectran chuckles. "Not much for words, seeing as he doesn't have a mouth."
The golem leaps toward Gourd, readying another attack.
OOC I have a neat plan for Gourd and Ergo to have a little team-up after @Dreyy takes care of this golem. I'll save it for after the fight. I can't wait to rejoin this show!
it involves both a song AND bringing the thief to justice
In the meantime, as Syf watches Gourd fight against the the wooden monstrosity, Ergo comes up to her and whispers his plan in her ear. She smiles and hands him a piece of her jewelry.
"Aww..." Decane stared glitter-eyed at the adorable bowing mouse. She searched the inside of her jacket for any sort of cheese...only to find her efforts fruitless.
"I wish I had some cheese to give you little guy. That performance was great!"
Then she looked back at Anduin. "You're lucky. I wish I had a familiar. I did have a faerie dragon, but the rain of bandit arrows got him." She sighed. "Poor Jasper..."
*Anduin takes a breath... As he does not need to breath, this usually means he is about to talk... Which is usually a lot of hot air... as you may have noticed...*
No... Wait! You can wish for anything! Don't do it! Wish for world peace! An end to hunger! An end to slavery! An end to disease, famine, war! STOP! THINK!
Your wish is my command my lady.
*Anduin rolls up his sleeves*
I wish for the lady's familiar, Jasper the faerie dragon, to be restored to her, whole, well and full of life...
*Time... stops... Anduin gazes around at the frozen tableau that is the House of fortune carnival tent... Then stares incredulously at the only other moving figure in the room, a silver goddess of light, the moon maiden, Selune... The goddess walks up to Anduin, a faerie dragon perched upon her arm, her white pupiless eyes matching Anduin's own... Anduin takes another breath to speak, but is silenced by the moon maidens finger on his lipless mouth...*
That was a selfless act young Anduin, the world is in need of heroes such as you... I grant this wish for free... How else may I aid you?
I... I... I wish for... I wish...
STOP! DON'T SAY A THING! Moon Goddess *Mystra bows low* May I take this wish on behalf of my master? He has clearly been charmed by your beauty and radiance and is befuddled
*The moon goddess looks at the tatty remains of Anduin... Shrugs and gives her full attention to the rat...*
Very well rat... Your colouring is to my liking... On your masters behalf I will grant your wish... How may I aid you?
I wish for... AN END TO HUNGER!
Very well rat... An end to Hunger... *Selune snaps her fingers* I will leave you now, I will keep an eye on you young Anduin... I foresee greatmess spread out before you... *Selune, tickles the Faerie dragon under the chin one last time before transferring him to Anduin's arm* Fare thee well adventurers!
*Time re-starts, Anduin blinks... Then smiles at Decane's face that changes rapidly from shock, surprise, disbelief and tears of joy*
My lady... Your Jasper. I return him to your loving embrace.
*Anduin chortles as the playful dragon hurtles into the outstretched arms of Decane, who is tearfully squealing happy shrieks of joy and wonderment*
A good deed done, eh Mystra?
A good deed? But you returned one pet dragon to the world... I must have saved thousands, millions even! And I get no thanks! Wasn't my wish selfless? I could have wished for a bag of unlimited cheese... But no... I was darn heroic, selfless and a force of good in the world! I deserve a medal, a huge medallion... Of cheese... And... And... Did she say great mess or greatness? *sigh* No matter... An end to hunger was a worthy wish... I'm glad I wished it...
*A sudden clatter of cutlery and plates grabs everyone's attention as a half-orc slumps to the floor, this is followed by hysterical shrieking*
Hunger! Hunger speak to me! Oh! A Cleric! Fetch a Cleric! *sob* Hunger is dead!
@Nonnahswriter you have your familiar back... @Kalesra I think one mini story arc has ended but another may have started, accidently... Not sure what the consequences of Hunger's death could be Plus we have lots of familiars now... Is there a pet fighting arena? Highly illegal, but I reckon my Rat could eat @Heindrich 's Ferret any day of the week! ; )
Hmm i wonder whats cooking in that brain of yours @booinyoureyes haha but count me and Gourd in!
Reacting to the wood constructs charge, Gourd enters into a defensive stance, as the two collide the force of the impact causes a wave of sand to spread out from them both. In a furious exchange of blows both Gourd and the wooden construct match each other both in fist, kick and knee. Neither one can gain the advantage though this in itself puts Gourd in a disadvantage, while Gourd can grow tired the wooden construct with remain unfatigued, eventually winning by reducing the Half-Orc into exhaustian. Gourd jumps back and folds his arms all the while still carrying a wide grin, clearly enjoying the chance to test himself against an evenly matched opponent, he glares over at Hectran @Kalesra who is clearly enjoying the effectivness of his animated training dummy.
"Ho! The wooden foe is indeed a skilled master of the way of the Punchy fist!" Gourd begins to pace back and forth.
"Even so...Ho! I, Gourd cannot lose to big toothpick man!" he turns and eyes up the crowd, paying particular intrest once more to the ladies in the auidience.
The wooden opponent attacks again with another furious assualt, clearly using Ravaging Tiger claw, while Gourd manages to block most of the blows the last one lands and causes a relativly deep slash on the Half-Orcs ribs. With a backflip and fleeing briefly out of the constructs reach Gourd inspects the wound, he winces slightly as he paws at the wound.
"Ho! Seems I, Gourd cannot underestimate opponent! Ho! Then i shall not hold back!"
Gourd charges towards the wooden construct and begins unleashing a flurry of diffrent strikes in quick succesion all with their very own unique name.
"PENGUINS BEAK MEETS SHARK! SNAKES SMILE SCARES SMALL CHILD! ANGRY FISH SLAPS TORTOIS TAIL! OPEN HAND HURTS BABY BIRD! IRON FOOT LANDS ON BIG TOE!..." despite each attempt to the land a blow the construct skillfully blocks each one, though slowerly dents begin to appear on its wooden arms and legs with each succesful counter and block.
"Ho! Wooden foe, block you may! But my furious assault shall reduce your punchy arms and kicky legs to broken stumps! Ho!
Gourd continues his onslaught, no doubt keeping on a strong offensive to prevent the wooden construct from being able to strike a blow itself.
@Dreyy, your special Punchy Fist attacks are hysterical
In the practice ring
Hectran watches Gourd's ( @Dreyy) battle with great interest as he and the golem spin through the air, locked in combat. Every move by the wooden dummy is blocked with lightning speed by the unusually dexterous half-orc. Every flurry of blows landed by Gourd is met with a flurry of blocks from the golem.
Hectran yells a command to the golem in a foreign tongue. The creature disengages, steps back, and bows low.
"Truly impressive," the monk remarks. "I shall declare this a draw, though I have a feeling if we had let it continue for another few hours my golem would be in splinters."
Hectran shakes Gourd's hand.
"You are a force to be reckoned with my friend. I would not wish to meet you as an enemy. You are more than ready to take your skills to the combat arena...but feel free to return any time. I may be able to offer you some gold to help me train our security team in hand-to-hand combat."
*******
Meanwhile...
A cleric hurries over and inspects the fallen half-orc.
What kind of stupid name is "Hunger" anyway? Mystra the rat mutters irritably as the priest casts a resurrection spell.
The half-orc gasps as life once again fills his body. His friend grins a sharp-toothed grin and clasps his rescuer's hand in relief.
Hunger screams. The half-orc keels over again, clutching his chest as his dying breath rattles out for the second time. The cleric frowns, seeming confused.
"I don't understand," he whispers. "It's as if his spirit refuses to stay in his body."
"You have to do something!" the dead half-orc's companion growls.
"I shall try," the cleric sighs. "It may be that someone has cursed him. I shall need a bit more time to determine the cause of this...insistence upon being dead." He gestures for a pair of acolytes, who bring a stretcher and haul the unfortunate Hunger away.
Do you think they'll figure out it was my fault? Mystra whispers nervously.
Just then, @Anduin feels a nudge at his elbow. A shifty-looking halfling is eying the rat. Mystra crawls into @Anduin's robes and hides there, trembling.
"Nice rat ya got there mister," the halfling remarks in conspiratorial tones. "Say, that one of them clever rats, like what mages got? You know, them telepathic magical rats? Cause uh...if so, I might have a proposal for ya."
Haha @Kalesra it actually took me embarrasingly longer than you would think to come up with them
As Gourd continues his barrage of attacks Hectran @Kalesra utters the order for his wooden construct to cease combat, with a subtle movement the animated training dummy leaps back out of reach and proceeds to do a bow. Gourd, unfortunatly lost in his assault fails to realise in time.
"CHEETAH CATCHES-" as his fist extends out to meet contact with the now empty space, his attack sends the unexpecting Half-Orc flying forward in an uncontrolled movement. He crashes into the bannister and lands on several of the onlookers. The crowds loud cheers quickly turn to a very verbal 'Ooooo' from the untouched audience.
His head spinning he trys to focus his vision and finally realises he has landed ontop a rather attractive noble lady, her long elegant dress had lifted up above her waist placing the Half-Orc in a rather precarious position. Red forming on his cheeks Gourd takes the moment to enjoy the sight before her paniced scream pushes him up in a fright, flinging him back over the railing and crashing back down into the sand pitts, his head hitting with a painful crack.
"Ow ow ow ow ow!" Gourd repeats while gripping the back of his head and kicking the sand.
He turns himself around and on wobbly legs pushes himself to his feet, while still gripping the back of his head. He clicks his neck a couple of times and when he realises no serious damage was done he turns to Hectran.
"Ho! Kicky man how dare you end good fight with wooden foe before I, Gourd have won! Ho!" Folding his arms and giving the monk a dissapointed head shake.
"Masters of the Way of the Punchy fist do NOT draw! Ho!"
The Half-Orc ponders for a moment, then fishes back into his pocket pulling out his Way of the Punchy Fist rule book. He flicks through a few of the pages and then proceeds to read a line out.
"Rule 37: No Disciple is permitted to Draw with another opponent under ANY circumstances, Either the Disciple wins or loses..."
The Half-Orc points at Hectran and then bangs his finger down on his book.
"Ho! It says so right here Kicky man! Gourd is now shamed in the eyes of the Punchy Fist! Ho! I demand the match continue until wooden foe is broken twigs at I, Gourds feet! HO!"
Gourd puffs his chest out and stomps his foot down in a demanding manner. Several moments of silence pass before the Half-Orcs eyes light up and he raises one finger into the air.
"ALTHOUGH! ...." he flicks though several more pages, finally finding the one he was looking fo,r his toothy grin returns, "Ho! Rule 63: Two Disciples of the Way of the Punchy Fist are allowed to spar to test their combat effectivness, only ceasing their sparring when one Disciple conceads to the other or is no longer able to battle... Ho! However should one Disciple be ordered stop by his surperior who is not engaged in the sparring match then that Disciple is permitted to bow out, leaving the other Disciple as the winner"
Gourd slams the book shut and proceeds to rub his chin thoughtfully, the crowd remain hushed while the Half-Orc comes to a conclussion. "Ho! This is training field...Wooden foe is Master of Way of the Punchy Fist... Kicky man is wooden foes surperior... kicky man order wooden foe to stop... so ... I, Gourd win! HOOOOOO!"
With this logic the Half-Orc throws both arms into the air and celebrates his 'victory' with several air kicks and punches followed by a flurry of diffrent arm flexes, the crowd join him after a long pause while they clearly tried to work out the logic. If they agreed with the Half-Orc or not isnt known, though cheered for him all the same.
Ergo the Entertainer claps loudly, drawing the attention of the crowd "HOOOOO what a show! After seeing the concussi-er conclusion, of this fight, I must say, I am very very impressed. In fact it has inspired me to write my next hit" He steps out next to Kellem "Let me begin. I dedicate this tune to our brave friend, Gourd!" ( @Dreyy )
♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ In Kalesra’s house sat a fair lady Syf, And in walked a tall green monk. As he wondered by, she took a whiff, And was surprised he had not stunk! He smelled like a rose, Who liked to pose, With biceps as big as my trunk! Yet she still had a doubt, About this great lout, Was all his bluster just bunk? But he had a surprise, Before her eyes, He faced a big timber lunk! Hit the man of wood, As hard as he could, And shattered that bum with into chunks! All were impressed, This Gourd was the best, A champ with charisma and spunk! Yet one sour puss started a fuss, Kellem called Gourd an overgrown skunk! Yet even worse, than my last verse, This evil villain, hoping to make a killin’, Off with Syf’s medallion he slunk! In this rogue’s pocket, you’ll find your gal’s locket, And among his loot, you’ll find my lute to boot, He nabbed it while I was a bit drunk! He insulted your gal, This man we both loathe. You and me, pal, He’s injured us both. Handsome bard AND half-orc hunk! I propose a coalition, with a simple mission, A tag team in the fight pits, To give this jerk fits, And teach a lesson or two to this punk! ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫
"So what say you, brave half-orc? Shall we teach this malicious malcontent a lesson so that all may know that Kalesra's House of Fortune does not condone shifty shady shenanigans against such lovely luscious ladies?"
*Anduin regards the halfling. Before pulling Mystra out by the tail and swinging it hypnotically before the rogue...*
This is not the rat your looking... Move along...
Oh the humiliation! For the last time, Rodenti Magi! And what in the blazes are you doing!
Calm down... I saw this in a theatre once... in a galaxy, far, far away... It's a mind trick.
He can hear you idiot!
*The halfling regards Anduin unaware of the rats telepathic exchange with his master...*
Um... Err... That is the rat I'm looking for... I can move along... but I got orders to keep... I am calm... I have never seen this in a theatre... What is a galaxy? And what mind trick?
A galaxy is a vast collection of stars and dust stretching over a near infinite distance floating in the endless vacuum of the void.
Um... Err... That explains a lot... I knew that really mister... Um... And the mind trick?
Think of a vegetable... Don't tell me... just visualise it in your minds eye...
Um... Err... Okay...
Asparagus?
*Mystra, still swinging by her tail, upside down, folds her paws and gives Anduin the look. *
THAT IS AMAZING! YOU CAN READ MY MIND! I obviously don't need to tell you why I need the rat... I will move along...
Wait... Although you know, that I know, what you know. It is always polite to share what you know, with those you know, to ensure they know... dontcha know...
For the love of cheese!
*The halflings eyes spin as he processes this logic...*
"Oh my gosh! Jasper!!" Decane squealed as she flung her arms around the tiny dragon, and half-squeezed him to death. The little lizard squirmed in her grip, yelping incoherent sounds muffled by her arms. When he was finally released, Decane had to hold him with both hands, lest the little fellow collapse to the ground with shriveled fairy wings.
"You're back! You're really back, Jasper!"
"Y-Yeah, boss..." Jasper seemed less enthused, already heaving for breath. "Glad ta see ya too, boss..."
She'd been so overjoyed she almost missed the halfling approaching @Anduin. Once she turned around to thank him, though, she clamped her mouth shut and her eyes and ears fixated on their silly conversation.
Gourd scratches his head while listening to Ergo @booinyoureyes congratulate his victory with a ballard, the Half-Orc puffs his chest out proudly and places both hands on his hips, a toothy grin very evident on his face. He turns back expecting to see the audience still admiring him but sadly discovers that the majority of the on-lookers, namely the attractive ladies, have started to swoon for the bard and his eloquent way with words. His grin turning to a sneer Gourd folds his arms and reluctantly listens to the remaining verse. Just how much of the song the Half-Orc understood isnt known.
"Ho! You speak with big words that follow in strange pattern small singy man!" he strolls a little closer to Ergo and rubs the back of his head, "Ho! From what I, Gourd can tell from your strange sing song you either wish to fight for good lady Syf's @Kalesra hand..." Gourd looks the bard up and down before nodding his head approvingly, "Ho! If that is true then you are brave, small strange singy man! Pehaps i shall teach brave strange little singy man the Way of Punchy Fist! Ho!" he pauses and strokes his chin trying to remember a few of the longer words Ergo used, "Or you are trying to woo me with good words! Ho! I thank you strange small singy man! But I, Gourd only have eyes for the ladies! Ho!" he looks to Syf and almost gives her a flutter of his eyelashes, though the gesture ended up being more creepy than enticing, he turns back to Ergo and pats him on the head, "Ho! Though you have good taste strange little singy man!"
Clearly Gourd has misinterprated Ergo's desire, a long sigh once more echos out from the audience, several of the patrons can even be seen face palming.
Comments
Hectran eyes Gourd ( @Dreyy ) coolly. Like most monks he has an almost preternatural composure. If the half-orc's grandiose display has amused him, he doesn't show it. His pale grey eyes stare unblinking from beneath his lightly furrowed brow.
"A fight against one of our training dummies?" he murmurs. Gourd finds that he must come closer to even hear the man's soft voice. He towers over Hectran by a good head and a half, but something tells Gourd he might now want to cross the monk. His compact body looks as solid as steel and those grey eyes never seem to blink.
"That sounds rather boring to me," the monk continues. "They just sit there. Wouldn't you prefer something a bit more lively?"
He approaches the nearest dummy.
"Perhaps we can remedy the situation," he murmurs. His adjusts his robes and stands squarely before the wooden figure. Raising his hand in front of the dummy's expressionless face, he traces a glowing symbol into its forehead. The wooden manikin shudders, then shrugs its shoulders. It jumps abruptly into a fighting stance, its fists quivering in front of it.
"You see," the monk explains with the faintest hint of a smile, "These are no ordinary sparring dummies. This is a wood golem, and it will put up a fight."
The golem dances about gracefully, kicking the air and executing a pair of flawless back flips.
"A much more interesting match, I think," the monk nods. "Get ready, Master Gourd!"
The thud of wood pounding on sand fills the practice ring as the golem charges the half-orc.
*******
In the arena
Seeing his skeletons methodically disassembled by Kang's ( @Heindrich ) dragon, the necromancer snarls in rage. He murmurs another spell, and a globe of crackling silvery light springs up around him. Just as he has uttered the lasts words of the spell, the dragon wheels and bears down on him. The claws glance harmlessly off of the elf's stone carapace but a gout of flame streams over his left arm and he howls in agony. The second the flames touch him a burst of energy recoils from his body.
A contingency spell, Kang realizes.
The magic threads and coils its way up toward the ceiling, where it forms a mass of dark, threatening clouds. A handful of snow flurries drift gracefully into the ring.
A second later, a deluge of razor-sharp icicles, massive hailstones, and clods of snow the size of small children pours down from above.
A pair of jagged icicles slash the dragon's skin, sending droplets of blood scattering across the quickly accumulating snow. Kang manages to dodge a hailstone as big as his head but a clump of snow slams into his shoulder. If it were just snow, there wouldn't have been much to worry about short of a few bruises. But this is magical cold. It sends agony shooting through his body as parts of his flesh are instantly frozen.
The necromancer just laughs as the snow and ice glances harmlessly off of his magical shield.
*******
@Anduin . The following information regards your wishes:
1. Staff of the Magi. You receive a staff which was created by some magi. The purpose of the staff's creation? To spice up their bizarre parties. The staff has the following abilities:
- Glitterdust 3x/day
- Summon stripper 1x/day
- Transmute Water to Wine: Unlimited
- Additionally, anyone wielding the staff is exceptionally good at dancing.
2. Bag of Unlimited credits: In your pockets is a bag full of credits that never gets empty. Fortunately, they seem to be credits for Kalesra's House of Fortune rather than some distant gambling den in the frozen North. Unfortunately, they are cursed with bad luck. It is impossible to win any game that these tokens are wagered on. Your mummy isn't going to realize that yet though....
3. Chosen of Mystra: You feel a small creature scurrying around in your pocket. It's a little white rat which seems to be some other mage's former familiar. She's capable of very basic communication. Her name is Mystra, she explains to you through the telepathic bond you suddenly share. Her old master thought it was a clever name (which may have something to do with his sudden disappearance). She has chosen you. She's rather clingy. And squirmy.
"Ho! Wooden foe with legs! Yes! I, Gourd, find this a much more suitable opponent kicky man!"
He turns and looks to the crowd, growing larger with the emergence of the wooden golem, he points at them and ends with a muscle flex, especcialy aimed at the pretty ladies now watching from the side lines.
"Ho! Good people! You shall now see the mighty... the powerful... the dashing... the masterful... the elegent... HooooooOOOO! Gourd Heavy-Fist Master in the Art of the Way of the Punchy Fi-"
Before Gourd can finish his crowd pleasing speech the wooden golem charges him and lands several solid punchs and with one fatal punch directly to the jaw of the unexpecting Half-Orc. The resulting impact sends him skidding and bouncing along the sand floor landing at the other end of the Arena, he lays there motionless for moment before sitting up and clutching his cheek, tear drops in each eye, the crowd burst into laughter.
"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" he repeats while kicking the sand.
He fishes around in his mouth and pulls out a tooth which was dislodged with the punch, he looks at it with an almost broken hearted look before flicking it to the sand. The roaring of the crowds laughter are deafaning. However his eyes suddenly take on a dangerous tint and glares at the wooden golem with embers in his eyes. He jumps up and takes a posture which seems more appropriate for his bragging.
"Ho! You wooden foe have no honor! To strike an opponent unprepared is the greatest of insults!"
His fist punches and air kicks suddenly become more sharp and focussed.
"Ho! Now wooden foe, you shall SEE the strength of the Order of Punchy Fist!"
The crowd stop laughing and a sudden serious tone takes hold of the small practice arena. A moment passes then the Half-Orc charges at the wooden golem with startling speed , he leaps into the air doing flips and cartwheels with amazing perception and agility for such a bulky Half-Orc, as gravity takes it toll its clear his comming down directly on top of the wooden golem.
"FLYING MONKEY PAW!!" Gourd Yells.
The wooden golem blocks the attack but the sheer force of the impact splintters several inchs into its arm. He jumps back, taking a defensive posture. Gourd relentlessly continues his attack, seeminly growing in speed by the moment.
"RAVAGING TIGER CLAW!!" Gourd yells once again.
The speed of each of his punches are hard to follow, some are blocked by the wooden golem, while others connect with a force strong enough to shred wooden shards and splinters across the sand. A final kick pushes the wood golem back, bumping it up and down off the sand before it finally regains its composure and stops itself. In classic Golem fashion, it dousnt flinch, it mearly retakes its posture.
Kang (Heindrich) totally didn't need to read up about Spell Immunity and the different magic schools to figure out what to do next... XD
The agonising cold almost paralysed Kang physically, but it brought his mind back into sharp focus as the effects of the necromancer's previous curse lifted somewhat.
Kang recognised that the elven necromancer's Contigency had triggered an Ice Storm, which he himself was protected from thanks to some sort of magical shield, possibly Spell Immunity.
Well... we'll just have to do something about that won't we?
Kang uttered incantations alien to most of the patrons of Kalesra's House of Fortune, and his eyes momentarily flashed with power, but nothing obvious happened.
Suddenly Kang cried in pain as a sharp dagger of an ice shard slashed into his side, smashing through the protection of his Stoneskin. Kang's blood streaked across the now frozen arena, as he doubled over in agony. Almost simultaneously, the bubble of spell protection around Kang shone brightly... it seemed reinforced somehow, even more powerful, but within, Kang was frozen in mid-motion, apparently unable to move within his own protective wards.
Meanwhile his wounded Celestial Dragon, its rage further exacerbated by the pain of its injuries, bore down on the elven mage with fang and claw...
So Kang cast Secret Word (lv4 spell) in an attempt to dispel the Spell Immunity. (I have no idea what it looks like, as I've never actually cast it ingame
He takes further damage from Ice Storm, which triggers his own Contingency, which is 25% hp, Oteluke's Sphere. Yes... he usually has a big brother and/or minions to save him when he gets into trouble, and forgot to adjust his contigency for personal combat...
Practice ring
A growing crowd gathers around the practice ring as Gourd ( @Dreyy ), previously a target of ridicule, demonstrates his formidable combat skills on the hapless golem. A pair of tittering girls leans over the barrier surrounding the arena, whispering to one another in conspiratorial tones. Gourd thinks he hears one of them murmuring a particularly scandalous rumor about the endowment of half-orcs. Or perhaps they were simply discussing the golem's wooden limbs...
The splintery creature has snapped back into a fighting stance, bobbing about as enthusiastically as before despite missing half of one arm and some sizable chunks of other body parts.
"Marvelous!" Hectran exclaims. "It seems that I have underestimated you. Well, you know what they say...sometimes you are your own greatest enemy!"
He says a few words in an unknown language and a second golem steps forth as the first bows out of combat, defeated.
Gourd bows at his new opponent. The golem bows back, its every movement precisely mirroring Gourd's. Gourd strikes his signature fighting stance. The golem mimics him. As the half-orc looks on in surprise, the golem begins to weave through the air in a series of intricate movements.
Could it be....?
Gourd realizes with shock that the golem is executing the Flying Monkey Paw!
*******
Meanwhile, in the arena...
There is a popping noise, like the sound of a balloon being deflated, and the necromancer's bitter laughter is abruptly cut short. His protective orb winks out of existence, the result of Kang's ( @Heindrich ) Magic Word. He screams an unintelligible curse. His own ice storm hits him like a hammer and he falls to his knees under the onslaught of frozen daggers.
The rush of beating wings catches his attention, turns his bloody face upward, and his eyes widen. His hands fly helplessly before him in a futile gesture of protection. The celestial dragon's claws shred the necromancer's arms into scarlet ribbons as another stream of flame boils the flesh on one side of his face. Trembling, screaming, pouring blood, the elf chokes out the words of a spell. Five darts of pure energy scream through the air and hit the dragon squarely. The creature is thrown back by the impact, giving the necromancer just enough time to regain his footing.
The elf murmurs another incantation. The dragon dodges a clod of ice, gets its bearings, and launches itself anew at its foe.
This time, the necromancer's bleeding hands dance with a pale, malevolent light. As the aura brushes the dragon's hide, the creature convulses violently. It tosses its head back and screams a silent scream as a gout of blood fountains from its toothy maw. The blood runs down its chest, then curls in crimson tendrils down the necromancer's arms. The dragon collapses on the arena floor. The ragged wounds covering the elf's body heal themselves as the blood flows over them. Smirking, he begins to utter another spell.
@CrevsDaak, you can also let me know if you want me to throw some sort of conflict at you.
And of course, I know everyone has limited time--I'm not trying to rush you at all, just seeing if you want some input from me.
It seemed that there was nothing else for the little quasit to do. His new mummy friend ( @Anduin) was staring slackjawed at a woman playing a lively tune on her violin. Boooooorrrrrrrriiiiiing. The fight taking place in the arena was loud and flashy, but even that could only hold a particularly jumpy imp's attention for so long...
"Ooooh. What is that thing?" a high-pitched voice exclaims from somewhere behind Ox'Ym'Oron. A cloud of perfumed air descends on him. A pair of hands wrapped in silk gloves close around his small body and he is turned around to face his assailant. Her hair is piled high on her head and decked with odd little ornaments, glittering with small jewels. Her eyes are heavily painted.
"Oh my goodness, put it down," her equally gaudy companion squeals. "It looks like a deformed little man! It's filthy, and it probably bites!"
"Oh come," the woman who has Ox'Ym'Oron firmly in her grip coos. "It's soooo cute. Look at its little eyes! Look at its little wings!"
She flutters her fingers about under the quasit's chin--he supposes it's an attempt to tickle him.
"Stop!" the other woman insists. "It looks dangerous!"
"And indeed it is," a confident male voice chimes in. A foppish young man in a silken robe of brilliant blue and gold has joined the two ladies and fixes their new plaything with a malevolent glare. He strokes his goateed chin dramatically. "That, dear ladies, is none other than a mephit--a vile little demon from the very abyss! It may be small but it can expand its toothy little mouth to astonishing proportions and will surely devour you if given the slightest chance!"
The two women gasp--the one holding the misidentified quasit quickly releases him and brushes her gloved hands off on the folds of her dress with a distasteful expression. The young man produces a wand from a robe pocket and points it squarely at Ox'Ym'Oron's angular nose.
"Never fear!" he exclaims. "I shouldn't like to brag, but I am well known for my magical prowess. I shall have no trouble dispatching this little beast!"
"Also, if you mind to stop pointing that thing to my nose, I'm not going to eat the wand, they taste awfully and they hurt my teeth!"
*Ox'Ym drops to the ground and walks (crawls) away*
OOC: what is the Wand of? Quasits are naturally immune to fire, cold and electricity. My Quasit has 8 Wisdom, so, yes, he can't tell the difference between an apple and a pear, so I suspect that we won't realize tha the mage isn't very experienced.
*Anduin stares slacked jawed at Decane... Anduin has never been fiddled with before... And Decane is fiddling away quite majestically... A strange, urge, overcomes Anduin... An urge he has not felt for over 6000 years... An urge to impress this female... Yes... He will impress this female... For reasons, just beyond his grasp... If only he could remember... Ah, YES! For DATES! Anduin will impress this female for dates! He will forgo his love of culinary vegetables and taste the forbidden fruits! He will impress this female and she in return will lavish him in... DATES! He will suck and suck the juices and feast upon the succulent flesh and he will make a Stone Golem from their... Stones... He will never go without a wholesome fibrous date ever, ever again and he will go regularly for evermore...*
Has the spring holding your jaw together gone or are you trying to lure a passing party of adventuring Pixies into thinking your cake 'ole is a portal into another dimension?
*Anduin snaps out of it only to stare into the eye's of a white rat sitting on his shoulder*
My name is Mystra, and I chose you to be my master... Do not be afraid unwise one as I am talking to you telepath~
Shut it ratface!
*Decane immediately stops fiddling*
Did I say that out loud?
Yep... Way to go on the impressing the girl front...
Was I asking you?...
*Decane, not hearing the telepathically talking rat, only Anduin's outbursts gives a hurt look*
Err... Sorry... I was talking to my rat... Errm
I prefer the term, magi rodenti...
*Anduin swiftly recovers and bows low*
Allow me to introduce myself... I am Anduin of the living four...
You know... technically, now it's the dead three and the undead you
...And I have seen many wonders on my travels. A dragon hatching from it's egg, A tear of Selune falling from the sky and a formian worker tickling a dire aphid's belly so it squeezes out a drop of the sweetest dew from its... bum...
Where are you going with this? Why did I choose you!?!
But nothing, can be as sweet or as beautiful as your eye's and countenance...
...better... I approve... just don't say bum again!
Your eye's and bum... *Anduin winces* are... are... perfect and round and...
*Anduin stands tall, flicks the rat from his shoulder...*
M'lady... allow me to become your humble servant... your eternal admirer...
*Anduin reaches into his bag of unlimited coins and carelessly scatters credits before her*
Money is no object...
*Anduin casts improved haste on himself*
Time is no barrier...
*Anduin collects all the coins and piles them into an impressive pyramidal arrangement in front of her, he then fills her one free hand with a flower arrangement stolen from a table found at the other end of the tent... all in an eye-blink*
Your wish, my lady, is my command...
*With a final flourish, Anduin once again bows low... Decane looks down at the flowers, then at the mummie non-plussed*
You owe me vast plate of cheese for this mummie... a vast plate bigger than this tent...
*Mystra the rat walks in-between Anduin and Decane, gives the mummie a glare, before curtsying and dancing a waltz with a napkin*
...
*Decane squeals with joy and delight clearly impressed with the familiars antics...*
I also just got done cleaning the house the last couple hours and my brain hurts from cleaning chemicals. Writing gods, forgive me...
"Hey, it worked!" Decane was so pleased with herself as she watched the drooling mummy lull about, she almost lost her tune. Her bow skidded across the G-string at the wrong moment, and she winced at her mistake, but with a quick strum of her fingers, she righted the melody.
"I mean... Of course it worked. Silly me. Haha... Why wouldn't it?"
The rest of the crowd seemed to like her song. People were clapping to the beat as a circle of bobbing bodies encircled her. Decane's eyes lit up with the fires of performance; now this was the life of a bard, all eyes on her with music flowing through the air!
Their beat was infectious as it warmed her legs. She danced in place and played faster, hopping and kicking on the tips and balls of her feet. With a deep breath, she began to sing.
"I was never one to charm a mummy
Whose eyes were gone and limbs a-boney,
A jaw all slack and rotten black,
And a smell the flies themselves would flee!
But he is not so bad, you see,
As he takes a bow and dance for me!"
Right on cue, the mummy shuddered to a new life and began to dance. His moves were rickety, a tad clumsy, but he seemed to be enjoying himself. He would not take his eyes off her, or at least, she thought they were eyes. Twas hard to see under those layers of bandages.
Suddenly, he stopped and stood still, looking at the sky. Decane pouted. What broke the spell?
"Shut it, ratface!"
Appalled, Decane's bow slipped on the wrong string again, a harsh shriek. She winced, and glared at the mummy.
"Ratface?" she asked.
"Did I say that out loud?" the mummy muttered with the scratch of his head. "Was I asking you...?"
"I don't know, were you?" Decane was getting mad now. Somehow, the mummy had broken free of her music, and he dared to call her a ratface? She certainly did not have a ratface! Her face was round, smooth, tanned! She was pretty, darn it!
Though the mummy seemed to shrink sheepishly under her glare. "Err... Sorry... I was talking to my rat... Erm..."
Oh. Decane tilted her head once, and caught the glint of a tiny white form on his shoulder, a slim tail wrapped around its body. Well, that explained it.
"Allow me to introduce myself... I am Anduin of the living four..."
Decane listened to his introduction. A tiny voice tugged the back of her mind--"Shouldn't he be Anduin of the Un-living Four?"--but she silenced it at the mention of his travels, his tales, the things he'd seen! She'd never seen a dragon hatch. Heck, she'd never seen a dragon period. It was clear where he was going with this, his stumbling flirtations and compliments. She giggled once. Maybe this mummy wasn't so bad after all. She'd never met one that could do more than groan.
She watched the dancing mouse on the napkin with a delightful squeal as she struggled to carry her fiddle, the flowers, and the bundle of coins in her arms. Just the sight of the lively animal nearly made her drop them. Nearly.
"She's so cute!" Decane laughed, "I'm sorry I got mad at you mummy. I guess you're not evil after all."
More learned members of the audience would recognise the sphere as an Oteluke's Sphere, a powerful arcane protection that made Kang almost impervious to harm, but also rendered him unable to move or cast spells of his own. In the chaos of massed combat, it was a good spell to protect an injured comrade, or harmlessly disable an enemy. But in single combat, it totally left Kang at the mercy of his enemy's next move... almost.
Kang's familiar ferret forwards darted forwards with incredible speed as the Celestial Dragon roared its final defiant challenge, a jet of flame engulfing the necromancer, before collapsing, dead, as the scores of wounds it suffered took its life.
Dodging the deadly ice storm with incredible agility, the ferret leapt into attack, biting and clawing at the necromancer...
Kang is obviously totally disabled by Oteluke's Sphere. XD It's up to his ferret now... and up to you the DM to determine if he wins or loses this one.
I'd be happy with either.
"Ho! I, Gourd, have more than enough energy to break and shatter the kicky mans wooden toys good people! Ho!" he turns and points towards Hectran.
"HaaHaa! Kicky man your wooden dolls are no match for I, Gourd! HO!"
Gourd notices this new opponent take an all too familar fighting stance followed by motion of similar move sets, some even performed more sharply than the Half-Orcs. The wooden construct leaps into the air, falling and tumbling towards Gourd, just before the move hits Gourd relises with shock.
"Is that...? Flying monkey pa-"
The move strikes, Gourd manages to get himself into a defensive position and prevent the strike from landing with fall force. Despite this the move shockinly carries enough power to knock the air out of the Half-Orc causing him to reel back slightly allowing the wooden construct to follow through with stirn strike to Gourd's chest, knocking him back across the sand.
These turn of events causes the crowd to roar loudly, clapping and banging the railings though if they were cheering for Gourd or the construct or just at the whole performance it isnt known. Gourd pushes himself up from the sand and rubs his chest, despite his green skin a clearly visable red mark appears. He attempts several diffrent offensive and defensive positions and watches as the wooden construct perfectly matches each one with its counter. Stopping, the Half-Orc relaxes, folding one arm and begins to rub his chin thoughtfully with the other. A moment passes until finally Gourd raises one fist to the air and points at the wooden contstruct. A strangly wide grin on his face.
"Ho! I, Gourd, now understand! The wooden foe too is a master in the way of the Punchy fist!" Gourd places his hands on his hips and puffs his chest out.
"Ho! I have not met another honored member for many years! Where did you train wooden foe? I do not recall you at the monastry!"
The crowd falls silent and ponders Gourd's words, a very verbal long winded sigh bellows from some of the on-lookers. Clearly Gourd has misinterpreted the wooden consruct's mimic ability,
@Nonnahswriter you have charmed me at a most opportune moment... I have a wish... Any wish I ask for comes true... YOUR wish is my command... So name it! Perhaps it could be the start of a quest for me... I have unlimited cursed credits... Gambling now is pointless... (although maybe I will... But @Kalesra will no longer need to roll for me... Because I will lose everytime. I will however need a DM decision on what happens on the Deck of many bad things could happen... Will I get another random or will I get the worst possible scenario? Death... Which can't really effect me anyway... But still...
And what about food or drink? Is that okay... Or will that somehow be cursed... Not that undead mummies drink or eat, but I may buy stuff for other members... And what about buying stuff?
Lastly, I can't find out what @Kalesra decides as that would spoil everything! Just a heads up for our DM.
I really liked how you handled the wishes @Kalesra ... I was thinking on similar lines (my staff was going to be a plain old wooden staff once belonging to Maggie, Mystra had chosen me to be her advisor on undead magic users and would keep asking me for log reports on Liches and I was going to get lots of gold, unusable in the tent... But your ideas much better!
*The Rat finishes by dancing up the Mummies arm, who is still bowing, and leaping from his head, transforming the napkin into a parachute, before bowing in exact mimickery of his/her master... The crowd wildly applaud the antics of the beautiful bard, the charming rat and the "not so bad after all" mummie...*
I prefer mature chedder... I also prefer it in huge piles... as quick as possible...
*sigh*
@CrevsDaak's story:
The blue-robed mageling mutters the wand's activation word and a single dart of glowing magical energy streaks from its tip and strikes the quasit squarely in the behind. The little creature yips in pain as a small plume of steam issues from the impact site.
"Take that, demon!" the mage yells triumphantly. He aims the wand again. This time, only silence follows the command word. The mage shakes the wand about with a grimace of irritation.
"Damn it to the hells!" he growls. The imp looks none the worse for wear and in fact, the magic missile seems mainly to have provoked his annoyance. His teeth are bared as he swoops toward the mage. The man's hands shakily attempt to trace out some sort of spell but his efforts result a few sparks and the reek of ozone as the magic fizzles. He turns around and unceremoniously begins to run in the other direction, only to trip on his robes and land flat on his face.
*******
In the combat arena
The dragon heaves its last breath and a plume of flames rolls over the cackling necromancer. The elf screams in pain. Onlookers standing behind him flinch as his robe burns itself into his back and the searing flesh releases the foul scent of singed meat. Gathering his composure, the necromancer begins to intone the words of another spell--but he is cut short by the squeals of Kang's ( @Heindrich )familiar.
It goes for the eyes.
"EeeeekEEEEEEEEK!!!!!"
The ferret's tiny claws do a bloody dance across the elf's face. The necromancer quickly catches hold of the animal's tail, and with a brisk motion he hurls it across the ring. It hits the magical barrier, slides to the floor, and runs about in dizzied circles, trying to relocate its target in the chaos of the arena. But the damage has already been done. Blood flows into the necromancer's eyes. He stumbles, trips over his own feet. He lands on his back and a massive icicle lands point-first in the center of his chest, impaling him before he can roll out of the way. With a hideous gurgle, he convulses a few times and falls still.
The arena priest leaps into the ring and immediately begins chanting a resurrection spell. The crowd erupts into cheers.
"We have a winner!" Nasreen cries. "Kang is the victor of this challenge!" She raises her sword high and a small shockwave runs through the ring, immediately ending the shower of ice and dispelling Kang's sphere.
Another priest approaches the sorcerer and speaks the words of a healing spell. A gentle blue light washes over Kang and his wounds seal over and disappear. The necromancer is on his feet again as well, though he looks even paler and sicklier than before and his robes are in tatters. He shoots his opponent the compulsory sneer of disdain and hobbles out of the ring, leaning on the priest's arm.
"Here you are." Nasreen hands Kang a promissory note for 120 credits. "I know you entered the ring for the challenge and not for the credits, but our rules state you're entitled to them. You can claim them at the main desk anytime you like."
Regarding the rat's gender:
Regarding the cursed coins for the Deck of Many Things
Food and drink
Bear in mind, you still have 10 normal credits which can be spent as usual, but you may have already gotten these mixed up with the others.
Also, glad you appreciate your wishes. I like your ideas as well, especially the one about doing Mystra's menial clerical work. This way though, you have a fabulous staff instead of a plain one
Practice ring
As Gourd ( @Dreyy ) strokes his chin thoughtfully, the golem raises its hand to its chin in the same gesture. Having no mouth, it merely stares blankly in response to the half-orc's questions.
"He's the strong silent type," Hectran chuckles. "Not much for words, seeing as he doesn't have a mouth."
The golem leaps toward Gourd, readying another attack.
I have a neat plan for Gourd and Ergo to have a little team-up after @Dreyy takes care of this golem. I'll save it for after the fight.
I can't wait to rejoin this show!
In the meantime, as Syf watches Gourd fight against the the wooden monstrosity, Ergo comes up to her and whispers his plan in her ear. She smiles and hands him a piece of her jewelry.
"I wish I had some cheese to give you little guy. That performance was great!"
Then she looked back at Anduin. "You're lucky. I wish I had a familiar. I did have a faerie dragon, but the rain of bandit arrows got him." She sighed. "Poor Jasper..."
No... Wait! You can wish for anything! Don't do it! Wish for world peace! An end to hunger! An end to slavery! An end to disease, famine, war! STOP! THINK!
Your wish is my command my lady.
*Anduin rolls up his sleeves*
I wish for the lady's familiar, Jasper the faerie dragon, to be restored to her, whole, well and full of life...
*Time... stops... Anduin gazes around at the frozen tableau that is the House of fortune carnival tent... Then stares incredulously at the only other moving figure in the room, a silver goddess of light, the moon maiden, Selune... The goddess walks up to Anduin, a faerie dragon perched upon her arm, her white pupiless eyes matching Anduin's own... Anduin takes another breath to speak, but is silenced by the moon maidens finger on his lipless mouth...*
That was a selfless act young Anduin, the world is in need of heroes such as you... I grant this wish for free... How else may I aid you?
I... I... I wish for... I wish...
STOP! DON'T SAY A THING! Moon Goddess *Mystra bows low* May I take this wish on behalf of my master? He has clearly been charmed by your beauty and radiance and is befuddled
*The moon goddess looks at the tatty remains of Anduin... Shrugs and gives her full attention to the rat...*
Very well rat... Your colouring is to my liking... On your masters behalf I will grant your wish... How may I aid you?
I wish for... AN END TO HUNGER!
Very well rat... An end to Hunger... *Selune snaps her fingers* I will leave you now, I will keep an eye on you young Anduin... I foresee greatmess spread out before you... *Selune, tickles the Faerie dragon under the chin one last time before transferring him to Anduin's arm* Fare thee well adventurers!
*Time re-starts, Anduin blinks... Then smiles at Decane's face that changes rapidly from shock, surprise, disbelief and tears of joy*
My lady... Your Jasper. I return him to your loving embrace.
*Anduin chortles as the playful dragon hurtles into the outstretched arms of Decane, who is tearfully squealing happy shrieks of joy and wonderment*
A good deed done, eh Mystra?
A good deed? But you returned one pet dragon to the world... I must have saved thousands, millions even! And I get no thanks! Wasn't my wish selfless? I could have wished for a bag of unlimited cheese... But no... I was darn heroic, selfless and a force of good in the world! I deserve a medal, a huge medallion... Of cheese... And... And... Did she say great mess or greatness? *sigh* No matter... An end to hunger was a worthy wish... I'm glad I wished it...
*A sudden clatter of cutlery and plates grabs everyone's attention as a half-orc slumps to the floor, this is followed by hysterical shrieking*
Hunger! Hunger speak to me! Oh! A Cleric! Fetch a Cleric! *sob* Hunger is dead!
Oh for the love of... *sigh*
Reacting to the wood constructs charge, Gourd enters into a defensive stance, as the two collide the force of the impact causes a wave of sand to spread out from them both. In a furious exchange of blows both Gourd and the wooden construct match each other both in fist, kick and knee. Neither one can gain the advantage though this in itself puts Gourd in a disadvantage, while Gourd can grow tired the wooden construct with remain unfatigued, eventually winning by reducing the Half-Orc into exhaustian. Gourd jumps back and folds his arms all the while still carrying a wide grin, clearly enjoying the chance to test himself against an evenly matched opponent, he glares over at Hectran @Kalesra who is clearly enjoying the effectivness of his animated training dummy.
"Ho! The wooden foe is indeed a skilled master of the way of the Punchy fist!" Gourd begins to pace back and forth.
"Even so...Ho! I, Gourd cannot lose to big toothpick man!" he turns and eyes up the crowd, paying particular intrest once more to the ladies in the auidience.
The wooden opponent attacks again with another furious assualt, clearly using Ravaging Tiger claw, while Gourd manages to block most of the blows the last one lands and causes a relativly deep slash on the Half-Orcs ribs. With a backflip and fleeing briefly out of the constructs reach Gourd inspects the wound, he winces slightly as he paws at the wound.
"Ho! Seems I, Gourd cannot underestimate opponent! Ho! Then i shall not hold back!"
Gourd charges towards the wooden construct and begins unleashing a flurry of diffrent strikes in quick succesion all with their very own unique name.
"PENGUINS BEAK MEETS SHARK! SNAKES SMILE SCARES SMALL CHILD! ANGRY FISH SLAPS TORTOIS TAIL! OPEN HAND HURTS BABY BIRD! IRON FOOT LANDS ON BIG TOE!..." despite each attempt to the land a blow the construct skillfully blocks each one, though slowerly dents begin to appear on its wooden arms and legs with each succesful counter and block.
"Ho! Wooden foe, block you may! But my furious assault shall reduce your punchy arms and kicky legs to broken stumps! Ho!
Gourd continues his onslaught, no doubt keeping on a strong offensive to prevent the wooden construct from being able to strike a blow itself.
Kill that overgrown Pinocchio already and you'll find out!
In the practice ring
Hectran watches Gourd's ( @Dreyy) battle with great interest as he and the golem spin through the air, locked in combat. Every move by the wooden dummy is blocked with lightning speed by the unusually dexterous half-orc. Every flurry of blows landed by Gourd is met with a flurry of blocks from the golem.
Hectran yells a command to the golem in a foreign tongue. The creature disengages, steps back, and bows low.
"Truly impressive," the monk remarks. "I shall declare this a draw, though I have a feeling if we had let it continue for another few hours my golem would be in splinters."
Hectran shakes Gourd's hand.
"You are a force to be reckoned with my friend. I would not wish to meet you as an enemy. You are more than ready to take your skills to the combat arena...but feel free to return any time. I may be able to offer you some gold to help me train our security team in hand-to-hand combat."
*******
Meanwhile...
A cleric hurries over and inspects the fallen half-orc.
What kind of stupid name is "Hunger" anyway? Mystra the rat mutters irritably as the priest casts a resurrection spell.
The half-orc gasps as life once again fills his body. His friend grins a sharp-toothed grin and clasps his rescuer's hand in relief.
Hunger screams. The half-orc keels over again, clutching his chest as his dying breath rattles out for the second time. The cleric frowns, seeming confused.
"I don't understand," he whispers. "It's as if his spirit refuses to stay in his body."
"You have to do something!" the dead half-orc's companion growls.
"I shall try," the cleric sighs. "It may be that someone has cursed him. I shall need a bit more time to determine the cause of this...insistence upon being dead." He gestures for a pair of acolytes, who bring a stretcher and haul the unfortunate Hunger away.
Do you think they'll figure out it was my fault? Mystra whispers nervously.
Just then, @Anduin feels a nudge at his elbow. A shifty-looking halfling is eying the rat. Mystra crawls into @Anduin's robes and hides there, trembling.
"Nice rat ya got there mister," the halfling remarks in conspiratorial tones. "Say, that one of them clever rats, like what mages got? You know, them telepathic magical rats? Cause uh...if so, I might have a proposal for ya."
As Gourd continues his barrage of attacks Hectran @Kalesra utters the order for his wooden construct to cease combat, with a subtle movement the animated training dummy leaps back out of reach and proceeds to do a bow. Gourd, unfortunatly lost in his assault fails to realise in time.
"CHEETAH CATCHES-" as his fist extends out to meet contact with the now empty space, his attack sends the unexpecting Half-Orc flying forward in an uncontrolled movement. He crashes into the bannister and lands on several of the onlookers. The crowds loud cheers quickly turn to a very verbal 'Ooooo' from the untouched audience.
His head spinning he trys to focus his vision and finally realises he has landed ontop a rather attractive noble lady, her long elegant dress had lifted up above her waist placing the Half-Orc in a rather precarious position. Red forming on his cheeks Gourd takes the moment to enjoy the sight before her paniced scream pushes him up in a fright, flinging him back over the railing and crashing back down into the sand pitts, his head hitting with a painful crack.
"Ow ow ow ow ow!" Gourd repeats while gripping the back of his head and kicking the sand.
He turns himself around and on wobbly legs pushes himself to his feet, while still gripping the back of his head. He clicks his neck a couple of times and when he realises no serious damage was done he turns to Hectran.
"Ho! Kicky man how dare you end good fight with wooden foe before I, Gourd have won! Ho!"
Folding his arms and giving the monk a dissapointed head shake.
"Masters of the Way of the Punchy fist do NOT draw! Ho!"
The Half-Orc ponders for a moment, then fishes back into his pocket pulling out his Way of the Punchy Fist rule book. He flicks through a few of the pages and then proceeds to read a line out.
"Rule 37: No Disciple is permitted to Draw with another opponent under ANY circumstances, Either the Disciple wins or loses..."
The Half-Orc points at Hectran and then bangs his finger down on his book.
"Ho! It says so right here Kicky man! Gourd is now shamed in the eyes of the Punchy Fist! Ho! I demand the match continue until wooden foe is broken twigs at I, Gourds feet! HO!"
Gourd puffs his chest out and stomps his foot down in a demanding manner. Several moments of silence pass before the Half-Orcs eyes light up and he raises one finger into the air.
"ALTHOUGH! ...." he flicks though several more pages, finally finding the one he was looking fo,r his toothy grin returns,
"Ho! Rule 63: Two Disciples of the Way of the Punchy Fist are allowed to spar to test their combat effectivness, only ceasing their sparring when one Disciple conceads to the other or is no longer able to battle... Ho! However should one Disciple be ordered stop by his surperior who is not engaged in the sparring match then that Disciple is permitted to bow out, leaving the other Disciple as the winner"
Gourd slams the book shut and proceeds to rub his chin thoughtfully, the crowd remain hushed while the Half-Orc comes to a conclussion.
"Ho! This is training field...Wooden foe is Master of Way of the Punchy Fist... Kicky man is wooden foes surperior... kicky man order wooden foe to stop... so ... I, Gourd win! HOOOOOO!"
With this logic the Half-Orc throws both arms into the air and celebrates his 'victory' with several air kicks and punches followed by a flurry of diffrent arm flexes, the crowd join him after a long pause while they clearly tried to work out the logic. If they agreed with the Half-Orc or not isnt known, though cheered for him all the same.
"HOOOOO what a show! After seeing the concussi-er conclusion, of this fight, I must say, I am very very impressed. In fact it has inspired me to write my next hit"
He steps out next to Kellem
"Let me begin. I dedicate this tune to our brave friend, Gourd!" ( @Dreyy )
♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫
In Kalesra’s house sat a fair lady Syf,
And in walked a tall green monk.
As he wondered by, she took a whiff,
And was surprised he had not stunk!
He smelled like a rose,
Who liked to pose,
With biceps as big as my trunk!
Yet she still had a doubt,
About this great lout,
Was all his bluster just bunk?
But he had a surprise,
Before her eyes,
He faced a big timber lunk!
Hit the man of wood,
As hard as he could,
And shattered that bum with into chunks!
All were impressed,
This Gourd was the best,
A champ with charisma and spunk!
Yet one sour puss started a fuss,
Kellem called Gourd an overgrown skunk!
Yet even worse, than my last verse,
This evil villain, hoping to make a killin’,
Off with Syf’s medallion he slunk!
In this rogue’s pocket, you’ll find your gal’s locket,
And among his loot, you’ll find my lute to boot,
He nabbed it while I was a bit drunk!
He insulted your gal,
This man we both loathe.
You and me, pal,
He’s injured us both.
Handsome bard AND half-orc hunk!
I propose a coalition, with a simple mission,
A tag team in the fight pits,
To give this jerk fits,
And teach a lesson or two to this punk!
♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫
"So what say you, brave half-orc? Shall we teach this malicious malcontent a lesson so that all may know that Kalesra's House of Fortune does not condone shifty shady shenanigans against such lovely luscious ladies?"
This is not the rat your looking... Move along...
Oh the humiliation! For the last time, Rodenti Magi! And what in the blazes are you doing!
Calm down... I saw this in a theatre once... in a galaxy, far, far away... It's a mind trick.
He can hear you idiot!
*The halfling regards Anduin unaware of the rats telepathic exchange with his master...*
Um... Err... That is the rat I'm looking for... I can move along... but I got orders to keep... I am calm... I have never seen this in a theatre... What is a galaxy? And what mind trick?
A galaxy is a vast collection of stars and dust stretching over a near infinite distance floating in the endless vacuum of the void.
Um... Err... That explains a lot... I knew that really mister... Um... And the mind trick?
Think of a vegetable... Don't tell me... just visualise it in your minds eye...
Um... Err... Okay...
Asparagus?
*Mystra, still swinging by her tail, upside down, folds her paws and gives Anduin the look. *
THAT IS AMAZING! YOU CAN READ MY MIND! I obviously don't need to tell you why I need the rat... I will move along...
Wait... Although you know, that I know, what you know. It is always polite to share what you know, with those you know, to ensure they know... dontcha know...
For the love of cheese!
*The halflings eyes spin as he processes this logic...*
Um... Err... Okay...
"You're back! You're really back, Jasper!"
"Y-Yeah, boss..." Jasper seemed less enthused, already heaving for breath. "Glad ta see ya too, boss..."
She'd been so overjoyed she almost missed the halfling approaching @Anduin. Once she turned around to thank him, though, she clamped her mouth shut and her eyes and ears fixated on their silly conversation.
"Ho! You speak with big words that follow in strange pattern small singy man!" he strolls a little closer to Ergo and rubs the back of his head,
"Ho! From what I, Gourd can tell from your strange sing song you either wish to fight for good lady Syf's @Kalesra hand..."
Gourd looks the bard up and down before nodding his head approvingly,
"Ho! If that is true then you are brave, small strange singy man! Pehaps i shall teach brave strange little singy man the Way of Punchy Fist! Ho!"
he pauses and strokes his chin trying to remember a few of the longer words Ergo used,
"Or you are trying to woo me with good words! Ho! I thank you strange small singy man! But I, Gourd only have eyes for the ladies! Ho!"
he looks to Syf and almost gives her a flutter of his eyelashes, though the gesture ended up being more creepy than enticing, he turns back to Ergo and pats him on the head,
"Ho! Though you have good taste strange little singy man!"
Clearly Gourd has misinterprated Ergo's desire, a long sigh once more echos out from the audience, several of the patrons can even be seen face palming.