Snakes & Foxes 3: The ****oo's Nest (Game Thread)

The Pirate shakes his head at the odds being almost back to 1:1.

Shoulda known that was too good to last. Hundred gold on the devout, then.

{When is the update?}

The day dragged on, scuffling its feet against the ground. The fight earlier had been so splendid, and the sun had had such a great time illuminated the world, that now he was loath to make room for his sister. But, eventually, he went to bed and the moon came out, nervously peeking her head above the mountain range near Jubilee. She had heard wonderful things about this tournament but she was still a little shy, which is why she was relegated to the boring night shift.

Perpentach had elected to spend the entire day at the Theatre to enjoy himself, which caused a commotion among his retainers, who needed boring things such as city management and diplomatic moves to be done. They had decided to bring official paperwork over so that Perpentach could sign it, but he adamantly refused, so they decided to forge his seals right there in public. Of course, this would normally have been tantamount to treason, but remember - "In the court of Balseraph, anything goes."

The man with the choice of battleground was sent out first, which meant that the Archmage took the arena first. He looked very much like a wizard, surprising nobody. He had the pointy blue hat and a blue robe and brown cloak. Most importantly, he had a rockin' beard and a very long and very curly mustache, both of which were white. He walked with the aid of his very long staff, made of petrified wood. Runes marked its surface, but when read by mere nonmagicians, appeared to scurry out of sight as if they didn't want to be read, which was true. The crowd gave a cheer, partly out of encouragement to the old man and partly because to this batch of people the possibility of an old man getting beat up was inherently amusing.

"He's cramping my style!" came a cry from the audience, by someone known only as Fladnag. The dimunitive figure next to him hushed him. "It's all right, you were the original."

Next, the Devout took the stage. He looked rather like the monk, dressed in boring robes that were probably highly functional. He was a good deal more pleasant than the Monk, at least, and the fanclub which had lost its raison d'être when he had died immediately switched allegiances to this new religious man. He smiled and waved at the crowd.

The two squared off in the middle, and a bell chimed. Reality popped out of existence like a balloon, and was quickly substituted by the Archmage's. The contestants found themselves standing in a pit of lava. More precisely, they were standing on rocks which floated on a pit of lava. It was prohibitively hot and both of the men were glad they had worn cloaks. Better circulation, they had told everyone, and it was worth being called a dress-wearer just for that.

"Well," said the Archmage. "You really do look like a nice chap." Perhaps it was an understatement to say that he said that, because really he had to shout, because the lava, excited to be in the public eye for the first time, kept spurting geysers.

"I wouldn't disagree," replied the Devout, smoothly.

"So, you know, when we see each other in the afterlife, no hard feelings?"

He thought about it, and then nodded.

The Archmage wasted no time, immediately pulling out a gemstone from one of the mysterious folds in his cloak. He tossed it in front of him, and after a flash of light, it became a small bone dragon, who immediately made a direct course toward the Devout.

The religious man had come prepared, withdrawing a bow from the same mysterious folds. He shot a few arrows at the dragon, which amusingly went right through the skeletal structure without damaging anything. The dragon circled him, taking potshots and nibbling where it could, until the Devout finally managed to seize it and fling it into the lava. The Devout then jerked his head towards the Archmage and saw nothing but a huge fireball. He jumped out of the way, but the massive blast still caught his right foot, spinning him around and knocking him back against one of the pit walls. Like all good wizard fire, this batch of liquid flame stuck to everything it touched and continued to burn, and further compounding the Devout's difficulty was that he had come to a full and complete stop on a ledge inches away from the lava.

That being said, he was still rather well composed after this near-death incident. He picked himself up and patted out the flames. A quick prayer was made and answered, and the burns on his leg began patching themselves up, but the scalds still hurt him. He retreated along the ledge by the walls of the pit, cloaking himself in shadow. The brightest lights cast the darkest shadows, after all. He found juts of rock extending from the sides, and an idea began to form.

The Archmage looked around. His adversary couldn't have gone anywhere, they were in a bloody pit! Well, at least fiery. Suddenly, his thoughts were rudely interrupted by a flurry of arrows. He managed to deflect most of them in time with a blast of air, but one pierced his shoulder in what looked to be a very painful manner. Grasping his wounded shoulder, he whirled his head in the direction where the arrows had come from, pointed his staff in that area with his other hand, and caused an explosion. Rocks tumbled into the lava, disappearing with a squelch, but there was no sign of his opponent.

A beam of divine power hit him on the small of his back, causing him to give a rather undignified faceplant. He did, however, seize the opportunity and created a whip from the lava, which arced out to the source of the beam and lashed the Devout. Blood splattered the wall. Suddenly, the rock on which the Devout was standing began to shake. He looked left and right, but there was nowhere safe to land. He would have to come down and engage the wizard. He leapt down, and rock would have collapsed right after he jumped, making him look rather like an action hero. At least, that's what everybody saw, but when he emerged back into the light, the rock was still there. The wizard cackled, then quickly turned serious. He threw some rubies on the ground, and pointing at them with his staff, he incanted:

Source of all power, crimson fire burning bright;
Come to me and banish the night.

The Devout rushed in, thrusting forth and striking the wizard with his bare palm, focusing his energy on breaking his opponent's body. Instead, he was met with an impregnable fortress, and the magical energy rebounded on him, causing him to fly back. His body cracked against the ground and began repairing itself as he slipped out of consciousness.

Source of all power, crimson fire burning bright;
Come to me and banish the night.

The wizard's amulet shook violently as power surged from the rocks up into the wizard, right when the Devout decided to rejoin the world of the awake. The magical aura he was emitting rose tenfold and it was painfully obvious, even to normal, nonmagicians, that he was brimming with energy.

Infinite Earth, Mother who nurtures all life,
Thrust up of the soil like a knife.
Make mine and your power the same
And help me breathe your living flame.

He rose both arms - and out of the depths of the lava, a huge fire elemental emerged, molten magma given life of its own. The earth shook violently and even the Devout's normally stoic visage gave way to a look of horror. The servant of Sirona took some potshots at the mage with his bow, but it was too late. He had the satisfaction of seeing an arrow pierce his opponent's chest, causing the elderly wizard to kneel to the ground, but the wizard had the greater satisfaction of seeing his opponent's body completely immolated before his very eyes. The elemental then sunk back into the pit where he came from, and the chiming of the bells - a death knoll, people said - brought the Archmage back to normality.

Nobody needed to remove the Devout's body from the field because all that was left was a tiny heap of ashes. It disintegrated in the wind, disappearing to Sirona's arms.



As the Archmage was helped off the arena by the officials, as arrow still protruding from his amulet, the crowd were already eager to hear about the next fight. Everyone already knew what it would be, but they still politely listened as the announcing official recounted the results of the day's voting.

Final Vote Tally:
Centaur: 16 (1: Harlequin, 2: Marksman)
Minotaur: 13 (1: Divided Soul, 2: Luonnotar)
Druid: 6
Overlord Speaker: 3
Ritualist, Frost Speaker: 2
Beastmaster, Sculptor, Dragonslayer, Firebow, Eidolon, Ogre, Brujah, Arquebusier, Paladin, Mercenary, Lizardman, Illusionist, Shaman, Berserker: 1

Morning fight: Centaur vs Minotaur, Minotaur gets arena choice.

Final Vote Breakdown:

It is now night.
Marks, send me your choices for the evening combatants.
People with night abilities, send me PMs.
Team leaders for teams 2 and 3, announce your teams' names dammit!

Betting is open for Centaur vs Minotaur. Place your bets in bold dark orange.

50 Gold on the Minotaure and may Kilmorph Forgive me for betting, as she has surely cursed me to loose everytime.

Crap. You and your elementals...

{ OOC: All bets and votes, gold and points should be up to date now. Please tell me if anything is amiss. }

The Pirate laughs at the Harlequin's song.

No taste fer an honest bet, clown? Ye win some, ye lose some, that's how it goes. Now as for me ...

He turns out his pockets, revealing mostly lint.

Tomorrow's another day. 1 gold piece on th' Centaur, me fine bookkeeper.

Tis what I get for betting on one who fraternizes with gods of evil, I suppose. This time, though, it seems both are godless so it doesn't matter. 5 gold on the centaur for me.

100 gold on the Minotaur. Just a hunch.

well into her cups the satyr was enraptured by the fight. "the satyr wins more coins! stableboys and tavern-wenches rejoice!" her followers rolled out three kegs to be shared by all who would partake. the night was full of promises.

50 Gold on the Minotaur to win Let us see these beasts battle

I'll place 20 gold on the Centaur.

20 gold on the Centaur, by the grace of god.

The name for Team 2 has been received by me in a vision. The LORD has ordained the name shall be The Disciples

12 gold on the Minotaur for now

Bold your votesorange!!!