"Until Bob Gets Back" Gaming

[ascieszl]

'Big Glad' sir' Gets a chuckle from the half-giant outside.

"Hit 'em hard and fast; make a hole? That's the plan!"

[Niachi]

Yag returns her head gesture, turns to face her with both eyes. A jaunty ruffle of his shoulder feathers translates genuine elation at having a successful interaction. With impeccable grace, he extends one of his backbent legs and selects as many workable sling stones as he can reach on the floor -WITHOUT any sudden or threatening motions- With the same fluid precision, his curled talons retract up to his chest to deposit the stones into a pouch, sealing it tight, then settling back to his seating position.

"I am ready to impart my own song of hope to us all, when the gates open. Need us clustered tight for it, yahh?"

OOC: DM - Can an sling be improvised with strips of cloth? No Weaponsmithing.

[Deleted]

A nearly naked Dwarf gets deposited unceremoniously. He slowly stands to his feet dusting his shoulders off. Rotund of belly and barrel chested, he looks at the rest of the rabble gathered here. "Fantastic." he mutters before finding a wall to lean against.

[Deleted]

Kharam chuckles a little as the newcomer arrives, but the Shadow-Wives that threw the new Dwarf in--a pair of bronze-skinned women wearing rather skimpy studded leather armor--don't leave immediately after depositing their newest captive through the large, barricaded door. One calls out in an imperious tone. "Look alive, meat. The crowd's ready for you. We've weapons here for you. Take whatever you like, but don't dally--the Thousand Steps are not patient, and neither is the crowd. If you don't hurry, they might kill the Gulgite scum before you get a shot at them, and you wouldn't want that, now, would you?"

[Deleted]

Bharnag looks over the armor. All made for 'UuuMaans and those like them. He grabs a rather bulky suit of Inix Hide Armor and removes the Breastplate and backing from it along with it's helm. Moving to some lighter pieces he picks up a pair of leg greaves from a studded leather set and then the arms off a padded gambeson. The mismatched armor looks rather ramshackle, but he makes a full kit from it. Walking over to the weapons rack he sees a bundle of Javelins and just bear hugs the whole thing and slings the satchel over his back. Slowly looking over the rest of the gear he picks up a Bone Tortoise Blade and examines it for a long minute before attaching it to his left hand. As he walks towards the Arena door he grabs a bone Impaler and tucks that between his backplate and the satchel of javelins.

"Anyone know who... or what we're facing?" he grumbles while scratching his chin.

[Deleted]

Kharam, the enormous, aged Half-Giant Psionicist, picks up a pair of Tortoise Blades and a set of Hide armor as he replies. "Soldiers from the other city-state of Gulg--they're are war with Nibenay, and they're sentenced to fight to the death in the arena, just to send a message, whenever they get captured. Watch yourself--they're no joke."

[Deleted]

Bharnag curses. "I HATE bows..."

[Deleted]

He nods. "You will. Nibenay's arena is enormous--plenty of ground to cover before you close to fisticuffs."

[Niachi]

Yag picks the smallest leather armor, adjusting the lower half to fit his legs. He takes a double-bladed spear, sling, and 10 stones. To the free goliath:

"Hard and fast, as the Urr'kaaah, the Bladewinds shriek out of the eastern skies of my home."

To the dwarf newcomer:

"I am Yag. Let us work together, I can be your eyes from above, and I know the way of the javelin to strike from afar. Please keep some spare, yahh?"

After everyone is geared up, he raises one wing as high as the space allows, to cover the team in its protection:

"May the spirits of the air guide us today! We will see our eventual freedom, moving and thinking as one."

He huffs a series of exhalations to Bless: For the next six rounds, everyone in 50 foot radius gets +1 to attacks, +1 to morale, and +1 to any save vs. fear effects.

(OOC: let's wait for the others before we enter the killing grounds)

[Deleted]

A pair of bronzed Templar women flank the only other exit from the room--a long, straight hallway. The chants of the crowd echo down it.[Note 1] Visible in the distance is a sunken pit, surrounded by a crowd on three sides. There must be thousands of them! It looks like a portion of them are throwing rotten fruits and meat down below into the pit, at someone the group can't see from here. As before, the throne resting upon the raised dais at the far end of the arena remains empty. Seemingly wrought of solid gold, a scepter lies forgotten in the seat--those who have viewed arena matches before would easily recognize it as the scepter marking the Sorcerer-King's authority to render mercy or death to a defeated gladiator. It would appear that, perhaps, the King of Nibenay has better things to do today. Unique among arenas, this one appears unfathomably vast--it's more like several arenas, all rolled into one. None of the party have seen or even heard of any building on the whole of Athas on this scale--the arena is the size of an entire small town! Unlike the majority of the party, the free Half-Giant is not funneled into an area lined with racks of barely-passable equipment. Instead, his path takes him around the long way through the training grounds, past a great deal of Templars, to an area where he may strap on his choice of equipment in privacy and enter the pit from a separate door from the unwilling combatants. In this room, the chanting seems to rumble the very foundations of Athas.

[Note 1]
"Death to the Oba!"
"Death to the Oba!"
"Death to the Oba!"

[Skrye [AC3; 48/48HP]]

- The half-elven woman gets her dagger ready - It's showtime - She says openly before returning to the human she talked in first instance - I still don't know your name but try not to be too scattered around if survival is your aim.

Whilst awaiting for the gates to open, Nadiya looks to the weaponry everyone else holds, to recover any useful weapon or piece of equipment in case any sadly drops into the ground

[Quila Oris (John M.)]

Looking around at the options, Ylonis dons a standard leather armor that will still allow her some movement (OOC: I need a max AC 8 standard leather armor). She packs a short sword, hopefully 10 darts/daggers as the ranged option, and if at all present a short bow with some arrows.

Like Nadiya she takes stock of everyone's preferred style, especially when there are folks using daggers or darts.

Just before the doors open she focuses inwards and becomes more vigilant (NWP Alertness, rolled a 5 vs 20 - success)

[Deleted]

In the distance, a figure ascends to the throne--the King? No. Even from this distance, it is clear that the figure who approaches the Sorcerer-King's seat is no man. Verily, it could not be any more clear--wearing nothing but body paint and a collection of piercings, Nibenay's High Templar gently scoops the King's scepter up from its place on his empty seat. Raising it above her head, the other more modest Templars bow their heads in deference. My, there's a lot of them--perhaps several hundred Templars are here, watching over the arena and the thousands of attendees. It would appear that, whoever she is, the leader of the Shadow-Wives has no intention of getting this over with quickly, as a rather lengthy ceremony involving Nibenay's upper classes and nobility paying their respects to the High Templar, as if they would the Sorcerer-King, begins to take place. The purpose of this, however, could not be clearer--as this transpires, the middle and lower classes appear to work themselves into a frenzy, chanting louder and stomping their feat. Motion ripples across their multitudes and their footfalls are like thunder. If the Templars don't open this gate soon, the crowd will likely kill the Gulgites themselves. Kharam wanders up next to Ylonis, testing the weight of a pair of Tortoise Blades. "I hear the bone weapons in here are made of the old combatants. Make sure not to die here." He inclines his head at her. The merchant Nadiya spoke with earlier seems to have chosen a set of heavy Hide armor he has absolutely no idea how to wear, as well as a rather cumbersome Greatsword wrought of bone that he seems to think will keep his enemies at arm's reach. The elves are standing together at one of the racks, testing the pull of shortbows and weighing the balance of obsidian shortswords. They don't look afraid of what's coming. The Thri-Kreen doesn't even bother giving the weapons a second glance--he or she advances straight up to the gate, flashing claws and mandibles all the way as if to indicate precisely why it doesn't need any weapons. The collection of dwarves and muls wander off independently, selecting heavy mauls, polearms, singing sticks, and other strange items. They seem to have discerning eyes, and the muls in particular look formidable.

[Skrye [AC3; 48/48HP]]

- If it's uncomfortable don't wear and use range weaponry to keep distance, so you'll be lighter in your feet, otherwise I can help you wearing it but I can't promise it'll be sorted before the gates wide open - She tells to the Merchant - Hopefully you'll know how to use these ones - referring to the tortoise blades - This is not moment to doubt, there is not second chance, as we only live once, so up and make yourself proud of your actions! - showing an smile to get another back from him

[Quila Oris (John M.)]

"I have no intention of dying today my dear Kharam. I like living too much."