I be not diseased, ye runty son 'f a poxy whore. An' methinks that's yerself ye're smellin'. I 'ad me a bath four days ago! Silly healers e'en re-did me braids.
Now buy me a beer so's I don't 'ave t' run ye through fer th' insult.
Aye, well, I'm only going to bet spectacular once I see nice odds to bet on, Dragonslayer. And I fear the odds which I'm going for ain't spectular. I might as well bet 1 gold with the current odds, so 1 gold on the Pirate it is.
The thirteenth night was like nothing seen before, at least where betting was concerned. A whooping 463 gold had been bet during the period where usually no bets were cast at all. And to make it even more spectacular, every single bet was on the Pirate. It was clear that few if any gave the Overlord Speaker any chances in this fight, but the odds would be quite spectacular, should someone bother to bet on him.
Current betting odds:Pirate vs Overlord Speaker: N/A
24 hours until morning post.
Combatants, send in your battle ideas to LightFang!
As a loyal Balseraphim citizen since birth, I was overjoyed to be granted a seat in the grand theatre from which to watch the ongoing Snakes and/or Foxes tournament. The posters adorning every building, tree and fat/elderly/dead person in view promised, in addition to epic duels, a pre- and post-battle atmosphere saturated with intrigue, tension, accusation and counter-accusation, shouting and shoving and, you know, all of life's little brilliances.
However, instead of this unforgettable spectacle, I fear I have instead been treated to a slowly-dwindling arrangement of so-called 'mighty warriors' standing around listlessly and voting, without much in the way of enthusiasm, when they remember to. I need not explain to you, sir, that this is not how we do things in Balseraph lands. Each vote is an execution warrant, a clarion call for death combat, blood and guts and bones and the removal of one or more of the above; not the Foxford Poodle Fanciers' Cuddlepuppy of the Month election, by Arawn! That is not how you run a railroad, whatever one of those is.
{ OOC: I should clarify - I truly did receive the above note in my PM box, I didn't write it myself. }
Response:
Dear Concerned,
While it is true that the dwindling of contestants have brought forth a matting of the erstwhile initial enthusiasm, what has replaced it is far from a listless waiting for a final outcome, but rather a silent but deadly atmosphere of deceit, trickery and death. Unfortunately for us spectators, most of this takes place behind the veils of sleeping quarters, out of sight of us and the rest of the contestants. We will treat your concerns with the utmost gravity though, and post your letter for all to see, in the hope that it will kick a few groins, preferably literally.
Sorry for not putting on the best show but I believe that Niklas is right here. While we are posting less and only seem to be betting, the small number of Marks and small number of people only make it both harder and easier to try to lure them out. I personally only really talk with people I have talking to the entire game and am trying to find out who the remaining mark could be by going over previous posts and such.
This part of the game isn't to appease the crowd. Those that are left are here because they want to win. And thats what we are doing now.
The Pirate swaggered into the arena, grinning at everybody. He had somehow acquired a new bird. Perched on his shoulder, its name was Bob Two. The Pirate was very lucky that the tournament did not call for creativity or imagination because he would have been tanked. Looking somehow scuzzier than he had before, he failed to notice that there was something green in his beard, but nobody wanted to draw attention to it. He had, once again, a scimitar in his belt and he wielded a hammer. He was wearing an almost dashing cloak, if you ignored all the stains, wear, and tear.
Bob Two gave the call to arms. "Bring it on!"
The Overlord Speaker took this as his cue. Trying to be completely mysterious, he was wearing long, flowing robes and a hood that obscured his face. Unfortunately, this was real life, and he ended up looking rather silly. Still, you wouldn’t be able to tell from the way he carried himself - and presentation’s half the battle, after all. He looked disdainfully at the Pirate. Maybe he could ride the seas - but the Overlord Speaker was the master of them.
Bob Two, again: "Let the games begin!" What an intelligent parrot, thought the masses.
Reality shifted, and the two found themselves in a dockside slum. Off in the distance, The Storm Kestrel was moored. Random barrels and boxes conveniently littered the ground, and off to the side the Overlord Speaker saw at least three suspiciously dark alleys, quite strange given that it was morning. A few people were opening up shop.
A haunting two-note refrain started playing, as if someone was about to get eaten by a shark. The two glared at a street musician, who was frightened off and scurried away. Suddenly, from the depths of the sea, a hand reached out and slapped the pier. It pulled itself up. A zombie! Ignoring this new development, the Pirate decided to head straight for the Overlord Speaker. Very flashily, the Pirate leapt onto a barrel first, then jumped off that, knocking the barrel over in the process, landing on the rail in front of a bar. He then ran swiftly across, then jumped high in the air, hammer glaring in the sun. The Overlord Speaker didn’t want his head to be caved in so early in his life and dodged into one of the nondescript dark alleys he had been conveniently near, causing the Pirate’s hammer to smash into the ground.
The Overlord Speaker ran down the alley, and the Pirate gave chase, grinning all the while. Bob Two gave squawks of gleeful laughter, which amplified in the confines and gave it a spooky quality far exceeding expectations. The alley twisted and turned all the while.
Finally, the Overlord Speaker reached a wall. A door was to his right, and he grasped the doorknob and jiggled it. Locked. He started knocking furiously as the Pirate rounded the corner. Relishing his kill, the Pirate withdrew a knife from his belt and tossed it. The door opened just in time and the Overlord Speaker tumbled in, falling to the floor. The Pirate used this opportunity to rush in before he could get up and close the door on him.
Poor choice, as it turned out. As the Pirate turned and was in the doorframe, the Overlord Speaker had been sitting there preparing a spell. Green lightning shot out from his fingertips straight through the pirate, even boring into the wall behind him. Bob Two was zapped to death and fell off the Pirate’s shoulders, muscles still reflexively twitching.
Now more than merely annoyed, the Pirate roared and brought the hammer down forcibly onto the evil priest’s kneecap, to the horror of the wench who had kindly opened the door. This was however to the pleasure of the bar’s early drinkers (being drunk before noon was normal business) and they cheered the Pirate on.
Dropping his hammer, the Pirate picked the Overlord Speaker up with just his right hand. The Overlord Speaker tried to break the iron grip, but he was too weak. He flailed and kicked for what it was worth, which was not very much.
"Scumbag, you’ll pay fer me bird." A pair of cold, wet hands seized the Pirate from behind. The zombie from earlier had decided to arrive. There was nothing it could do though. With a roar, the Pirate unleashed a burst of pure magical power through his hand and into the evil priest’s throat, which then spread throughout the rest of his body. Quite literally, he burned out - his eyeballs exploded and smoke protruded from his apertures. It was then a simple matter to punch out the zombie in an old-fashioned way. The Pirate took a bottle from a passing wench and smashed it over the zombie’s head. He then took another bottle for the hell of it, and thus when reality reasserted itself, he was drinking to his victory.
Spoiler:
The Overlord Speaker was Innocent!
The Overlord Speaker was worth 320 gold. One third, 106 gold, will be given as spoils to the Pirate. The remainder is split among the two survivors of The Golden Scarecrows, 106 gold each.
Gold and points won and lost from betting:
Spoiler:
Final odds for Pirate to win: 0.107:1
The following contestants have won gold and points from betting:
Eidolon +10 gold, +110 points
Arquebusier +32 gold, +132 points
Divided Soul +0 gold, +100 points
Dragonslayer +1 gold, +101 points
Beastmaster +0 gold, +100 points
Lizardman +0 gold, +100 points
Paladin +5 gold, +105 points
Brujah +0 gold, +100 points
The following contestants have won points from voting the Frost Speaker into battle:
1st voter: Pirate, +200 points
2nd voter: Shaman, +100 points
The following contestants have lost gold from betting:
Satyr -50 gold
The pieces of broken glass were quickly disposed of, along with the seaweed and the rotting and now lifeless corpse - make that two corpses, since the remains of the Overlord Spekaer weren't in much greater shape. The pompous official scurried in quite unpompously, but he was in a hurry.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, and dear audience, the evening battle this day will pit the Dragonslayer against the Divided Soul in an arena of his choice!"
Evening fight: Divided Soul vs Dragonslayer, Dragonslayer gets arena choice.
It is now day.
All contenstants, vote for combatants for the next morning's fight.
People with day abilities, send me PMs.
Combatants, send your battle ideas to LightFang!
Betting is open for Divided Soul vs Dragonslayer. Place your bets in BOLD dark orange.
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