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Post by john on Mar 16, 2008 19:12:09 GMT -5
John snarls as he's slashed, and his legs almost give out from the force of the cuts, reeling backwards, his eyes darkening to black and then setting to a flash of red for a moment. He aspirates blood, and...
[dice=20+8]
[dice=20+8][rand=3863696376780071434207069391025924756946508001245309976006654205527]
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Post by john on Mar 16, 2008 19:16:14 GMT -5
Realizes his time is very short indeed. He stops toying with his opponent and begins a murderous counterattack, a flurry of sword-work, erupting from his weakened limbs. A series of high-line cuts across the face of the reave followed by a finishing cut across the belly. No sportsmanship now, only a determination to not be the one written in the dead book at the end of the match.
[dice=20+12]
[dice=20+12]
[dice=20+7]
damage....
[dice=10+6]
[dice=10+6]
[dice=10+6][rand=28796809730034023299499825508246160268416842184776576803230965099379]
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Post by Stix on Mar 16, 2008 20:46:19 GMT -5
John Initiative
[dice=20+5]
Olmen Initiative
[dice=20+4][rand=3178092565528307752673953732784385264279108102315298305040069159]
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Post by Stix on Mar 16, 2008 21:05:48 GMT -5
John's redoubled determination to survive puts strength enough in his sword arm to knock Olmen's helm askew with the first blow. His backswing takes the reave across the face and shoulder, and a punishing slash to the abdomen finally takes his opponent down, battered into unconsciousness in its own armor.
A good portion of the crowd curses John, having bet against him, and a good deal more fix him with smoldering stares but think better than to speak up. The applause and condemnation become an impossible noise as piked-off gamblers point in accusation to the globe of light overhead, calling it an illegal diversion. The announcer's voice finally booms over the din. "The victor in this match: the Taker of Blood!"
Those whose wagers serve them well are all too happy to see him leave the ring alive, as is Ghour, who wears an appreciative, if savage-looking smile. "Give your spellslinger friend my thanks, he's made me very wealthy tonight."
Across the establishment, Aven curses emphatically as he watches the end of the fight, tearing up the betting slip afforded him by the house. "Well, I've learned my piece," he says to Nuuko. "Never bet against Ghour's man. I paid the music, let's both benefit from the lesson."
The Sensate looks over the tall Athasian. "I'm willing to pave your way to the ring, cutter. First blood?"
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Post by artemis on Mar 16, 2008 21:55:27 GMT -5
Xianna slams her mug on the bar and whistles through her teeth. "Well done cutter!" She laughs at all the gamblers that lost their wagers. "HA! Ya'll lost all yer jink! They don't call him Taker of Blood fer nuthin!" She realizes that the longer she stays here, the more slangy she starts to speak. She's always prided herself on the fact that she articulates better than these average berks of the Cage. She blames it on the cheap bub. "That bub ain't no good fer the brain Felgar!" She throws a copper at him and pushes her way through the crowd towards Hadrian.
" I reckon I can meet yer prices cutter. I can cast shield on myself, but I wouldn't mind Guidance and Barkskin. And I reckon if I get knicked I may need Cure Light Wounds, or Cure Moderate Wounds."
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Post by exile on Mar 16, 2008 22:23:08 GMT -5
“I’d say we have a deal then,” Hadrian remarked, turning to face Xianna. In the interim, he had grabbed a pint of some gut-rotting bub and staked out a table as his own. “Sixty gold will see you sorted out, when you please, cutter. I could get you started with the Barkskin now, if you’d like. It’ll last out the hour, and save you a bit of time before you can get into the ring. Up to you of course, basher.”
“But that ones going to cost you a full fifty up front.”
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Post by john on Mar 16, 2008 22:26:33 GMT -5
John, realizing he's virtually holding his guts in with one hand, hobbles off the ring with his blade reversed, using it as a sort of walking stick. He looks around blearily for an apothecary or chirugeon to pay so he can keep his mortal soul intact. At least, for now.
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Post by exile on Mar 16, 2008 22:39:55 GMT -5
Spying the limping taker struggle ingloriously out of the ring, Hadrian’s frenzied mind seizes upon another agent of destruction to toy with. “Oy, you! Boy!” He hurriedly flags down a passing server. Raising up a green copper before his face between pinched fingers, he continues. “See that basher down by the ring? The taker of souls or some other nonsense? You can have this if you’ll run down his way and pass on a message. Tell him the Bleaker in the corner will have him back on his feet in time for the next fight if he’s willing to pay for it.”
The server reluctantly sizes up his intended recipient, but jink is jink and nothing in the cage comes freely. Gingerly he nods, accepts the payment and ventures off to find John.
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Post by artemis on Mar 17, 2008 5:20:02 GMT -5
"Fair enough cutter", she reaches in her pouch and counts out the appropriate jink. It seemed a bit far to go just to win a fight, but she wanted to make a good first impression, and she knows she's had a wee bit too much to drink, slowing her reflexes.
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Post by Uathach Blackmantle on Mar 17, 2008 21:46:53 GMT -5
Xianna looks at Quicksilver with a look of disgust, "Damn continual light spell is what that is, that rattles my cage, wish I could dispel it. I'm gonna have another mug o' bub, then talk to our spellslinger, maybe crack a few brain-boxes on the way. I dunno, suppose I oughta save myself for the ring."Xianna saunters to the bar and lays down a copper, "Another mug of that nasty bub Felgar!"Quicksilver nods, shielding her eyes from the dazzling light, and grimaces. "I can't dispel it either. This oughta make things interestin'. I wonder which berk's responsible fer this?" She glances around her gloomy surroundings, spying the madman standing in the corner. She smirks. Now he struck her as a man barmy enough to pull off such a stunt, if indeed the supposed spellslinger was who he claimed to be. "Aye, if any berk be stupid enough to get in our way, I say send 'im sprawlin'. If not..." She shrugs her shoulders, and cracks her neck. "Though a little bub couldna hurt." She follows the crazy tiefling chit through the crowd, taking up a relaxed position near the bar, and orders another mug of the foul swill. John's redoubled determination to survive puts strength enough in his sword arm to knock Olmen's helm askew with the first blow. His backswing takes the reave across the face and shoulder, and a punishing slash to the abdomen finally takes his opponent down, battered into unconsciousness in its own armor. A good portion of the crowd curses John, having bet against him, and a good deal more fix him with smoldering stares but think better than to speak up. The applause and condemnation become an impossible noise as piked-off gamblers point in accusation to the globe of light overhead, calling it an illegal diversion. The announcer's voice finally booms over the din. " The victor in this match: the Taker of Blood!" Xianna slams her mug on the bar and whistles through her teeth. "Well done cutter!" She laughs at all the gamblers that lost their wagers. "HA! Ya'll lost all yer jink! They don't call him Taker of Blood fer nuthin!" She realizes that the longer she stays here, the more slangy she starts to speak. She's always prided herself on the fact that she articulates better than these average berks of the Cage. She blames it on the cheap bub. "That bub ain't no good fer the brain Felgar!" She throws a copper at him and pushes her way through the crowd towards Hadrian. " I reckon I can meet yer prices cutter. I can cast shield on myself, but I wouldn't mind Guidance and Barkskin. And I reckon if I get knicked I may need Cure Light Wounds, or Cure Moderate Wounds."Quicksilver, having watched the entire fight, smirks and nods appreciatively. She hadn't expected any less from John. Now there's a cutter worth his salt. She muses to herself, raising her own cheap bub to her lips, and quaffs half of the foul brew in one swallow. She slams the mug down beside Xianna's. "Ya know, I'm startin ta twig ta ya already, girlie." She remarks with a calculating twinkle in her eye. "The pair o' us, we can go far 'ere; carve a fearful name fer ourselves." Silver passes a well-worn green across the counter to the gnome bartender. "Again, ye 'ave me thanks, cutter." She says with a lopsided grin, and a laugh, and saunters off with Xianna. |
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Post by TheGratefulNed on Mar 18, 2008 15:05:12 GMT -5
Across the establishment, Aven curses emphatically as he watches the end of the fight, tearing up the betting slip afforded him by the house. " Well, I've learned my piece," he says to Nuuko. " Never bet against Ghour's man. I paid the music, let's both benefit from the lesson." The Sensate looks over the tall Athasian. " I'm willing to pave your way to the ring, cutter. First blood?" " I don't know about this Ghour, but personally I wouldn't bet against him," the elf says with a chuckle, pointing to the vulture-helmed warrior hobbling out of the ring. After pondering for a moment, Nuuko nods. " It had never occurred before that there were gladiatorial games that you could both enter voluntarily and leave defeated but still living. I think first blood is a good place to start." |
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Post by Uathach Blackmantle on Mar 18, 2008 22:49:46 GMT -5
“ I’d say we have a deal then,” Hadrian remarked, turning to face Xianna. In the interim, he had grabbed a pint of some gut-rotting bub and staked out a table as his own. “ Sixty gold will see you sorted out, when you please, cutter. I could get you started with the Barkskin now, if you’d like. It’ll last out the hour, and save you a bit of time before you can get into the ring. Up to you of course, basher.” “ But that ones going to cost you a full fifty up front.” Quicksilver cuts in, regarding the feverish looking madman with shifting shale eyes. "Secondly, will this "barkskin" work wit' me own armour?" She takes a step back, gesturing grandly at the mismatched studded leather sheathing her body like a second skin. Naturally, on a ferocious chit such as her, some pieces were carefully cut away to expose a provocative hint of ivory flesh. |
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Post by exile on Mar 19, 2008 23:48:45 GMT -5
“Fifty for the bull’s strength and twenty for the magic weapon enchantment,” the Bleaker cocks his head sharply to one side while addressing the brash, young fighter. “I wouldn’t recommend receiving them until the minute or so leading up to the fight though, basher. They won’t last nearly so long as your friend’s selection.”
With unexpected alacrity, Hadrian reaches out a calloused finger to stab at Silver’s exposed flesh. “Barkskin will serve as a second layer of protection against any blade that might slip past your–” he pauses, but after a moment reluctantly agrees to address the bawdy, revealing hide by the name given it by its wearer. “-armor. The two compliment each other, you could say. You’re thinking more along the lines of mage armor, a spell that will suit you with something similar to fieldplate in terms of its ability to turn a blade, but lacking any substance to soften a truly well placed blow. A spell like mage armor won’t do you a piece of good if what you’re wearing is already better, but in your case, well, I’d say it’d help patch up some of these holes.”
(OOC: If you're not clear on the mechanics, normal armor and mage armor both occupy the same "slot"; you only receive the benefit of the better of the two. Barkskin occupies the natural armor "slot" and stacks with the aforementioned pair.)
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Post by Uathach Blackmantle on Mar 20, 2008 3:42:07 GMT -5
Quicksilver smirks at the madman. "Now ye're speakin' me language. Barkskin it is then. An' ifn it turns out ye're peelin' me, then I hope ye hearken me warnin', savvy?" She bears a devilish grin, reaching for her beltpouch, unties the strings, and counts at the appropriate coins, before passing them over to the madman.
"Barkskin now, an' I'll pay fer the other enchantments afore me fight. I trust ye'll be nearby afore that happens?"
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Post by exile on Mar 20, 2008 18:25:30 GMT -5
Hadrian received the jink without grace or thanks. Indeed, now that the transaction had been finalized he appeared almost entirely disinterested in the stuff as though it were of secondary importance to him.
“Hold still, basher,” he instructed. With one hand pressed against the etched steel clasp that fastened his girdle in place, and a second resting firmly on Silver’s shoulder, the aasimar began to pray.
“All-father,” he began, in surprisingly harsh whispers. “Look favorably upon this warrior in the contest to come. Grant her the resilience to turn aside even the sharpest of blades that she may bring the cleansing fire of Ysgard into this blighted place.”
The woman’s exposed flesh began to crawl and writhe as though the roots of the World Ash tunneled beneath her ivory skin. Though disquieting to behold, it was a painless, if bizarre experience for the recipient. After a few moments the knotted hyphae receded from view and Silver’s appearance looked unchanged.
Hadrian smiled, but it was a cold and mirthless baring of teeth. “I’ll be here when you are ready to receive the rest.”
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Post by Stix on Mar 20, 2008 21:11:33 GMT -5
The passing basher takes Hadrian's coin and relays the message bluntly to John. " The Bleaker over there wants a word with you, if you need some relief from your wounds. That was a fine show, cutter. Top-shelf." After pondering for a moment, Nuuko nods. " It had never occurred before that there were gladiatorial games that you could both enter voluntarily and leave defeated but still living. I think first blood is a good place to start." " You've got quite a reach advantage over the average berk in the ring; might as well play to that strength. What do I call you, cutter?" (Since Nuuko and Xianna/Quicksilver are competing in different circuits, we'll be PC vs. NPC in all the upcoming fights.) |
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Post by john on Mar 20, 2008 22:25:32 GMT -5
John grasps the server for a moment, fixing him in his blurring vision, then staggers over to Hadrian, standing in front of the Aasimar like some bloodstained harbinger of an already-lost war, the rents in his armor and flesh starkly contrasting one another, the armor dull, his blood, a wash of crimson.
"I hear you can put people back together. What's the cost?"
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Post by artemis on Mar 21, 2008 9:19:29 GMT -5
Xianna realizes that there will Gods invoked and curses. "Nevermind spellslinger, I can't accept yer spells. Wish I could, but I'm an Athar see. Would've realized it sooner, but drank too much cheap bub. So, I'll take my coinage back, if'n ya don't mind and do it on my own."
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Post by TheGratefulNed on Mar 21, 2008 11:06:31 GMT -5
" You've got quite a reach advantage over the average berk in the ring; might as well play to that strength. What do I call you, cutter?" Looking around at most of the other fighters Nuuko nods, " I suppose I do have that advantage. My name is Nuuko, though it seems another name might be best suited here." He ponders for a few moments and grins. " I think 'The Night Runner' may be appropriate," he replies in a dry raspy voice. |
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Post by exile on Mar 21, 2008 11:39:38 GMT -5
The battered figure of John lurches to a stop before Hadrian, leaning heavily against his sword for support. The effort of standing upright is written plainly across his tortured features.
Reaching out with an expression of idle curiosity, the aasimar shifts a plate on the Taker’s armor to better examine his wounds. A few dull grunts escape Hadrian’s throat as he probes the mutilated flesh, but he is otherwise absorbed in his task.
“You’re lucky, cutter,” Hadrian announces after a minute, drawing back a bloody digit and wiping it against his patient’s garb. “One of the Powers must like you. It’s a penetrating gut wound, but your viscera are intact. Mind you, it’s still serious, but its not going to kill you; at least not immediately. The blood loss might though, or sepsis could if you were to let one of the hacks in here lay a finger on you. Good thing you came to me first, hey?”
Pausing to consider the man for a moment, the Bleaker evidently arrives at a decision. “This is third house stuff, cutter. Not cheap. It’ll cost you ninety gold to stuff your guts back in proper, or if you’d like, we can start with something cheaper and see how it goes. Of course, its your life, not mine.”
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