PaulusIII
Unholy Warlord
50 gold on th' Ranger.
Snakes & Foxes 3: The ****oo's Nest (Game Thread)
- Thread starter Niklas
- Start date
Morning, Day 2
The sun rose on Jubilee. Noting the events about to transpire below, he gave a merry effort and cast his brilliant light down on the world. Inside the Theater of Dreams, the sleepy crowd awoke, with some members discovering that other members had run off with some of their valuable possessions. Of course, they’d have no one to complain to, because it was clearly their fault for leaving their possessions out where anyone could see it inside a safe guarded by dogs and prompt others to become jealous, and as we all know, envy is a sin.
Perpentach chose to stride back into the venue, flanked by his clowns. There was a glint in his eye - or maybe it was always there - but in any case it is pretty certain that he was looking forward to the first blood. All awake and alert eyes glanced towards him, except for those who were blind because it’s silly that they’d be able to pinpoint his location by dint of their lack of vision. It was traditional for the host to give a grand speech before the first fight.
"The finest moment is at hand, our combatants will make their stand out on the magic field of green, the grandest battle to be seen!"
Short and sweet, it would have to do. It was time. Because the Ranger had received more votes, he strode out first. A band struck up a vaguely-Hippus sounding tune. Of course, he had the dashing hat, but also the muted brown and green armor that goes with the craft. In one hand he clutched a bow; in the other he held the reins of his horse. He winked at the crowd and, reaching into the quiver of arrows onto his back, pulled out a rose and tossed it, where it was promptly caught by a fair maiden.
After the cheers had quieted down, the Monk emerged from the opposite side. Quiet, acerbic, but most importantly, bald, his reception was much less well noted. He had refused to regale the crowd with stories but instead had decided to pray to the gods or something equally boring and stuffy. Nonetheless, a minor but very vocal fanclub had already sprung up, because some girls happen to like the quiet, strong character. The only thing he could improve on, the consensus was, that maybe his boring plain monk outfit could be spruced up...
In any case the two squared off in the middle of the field. As had already been explained to the crowd, when the bells struck, the mages would transform the quiet, fistball field into an arena of the Ranger’s choosing. A hush fell over the crowd, knocked its head on the stone floors, and stayed.
A bell chimed - and reality shifted. The ranger had utterly failed to disappoint the crowd ("See! He picked something naturey! That’s 50 gold you old me there, mate,"). The monk found himself standing in the middle of a circular field of grass. It would have been almost pleasant, except there was a pit ring dug around the field, followed by a ring of grass, and more pits, each one conveniently just wide enough so that a man would have great difficulty jumping across the pits but just narrow enough that a horse could do it. The Ranger was outside the final, outermost pit - the wide field of grass gave way to a moderately forest behind him, again just dense enough so that it could be used for hiding but just light enough so that someone could ride there.
The Monk walked to the edge of the pit to examine it. It was about three meters deep, easy enough to climb in and out of. He then shifted his armor-piercing gaze to the Ranger.
"Hello there!" said the Ranger, with a wide grin. "I expect we’ll have to kill each other!"
The Monk failed to respond.
"Well then, I hope your goddess won’t mind, but I’ll be taking the first shot."
He hopped onto his horse in a very smooth manner that reminded some of the time travelers present of a man hopping into a convertible. He then proceeded to circle the clearance, shooting at the monk from the outside with his bow. Deciding that being stabbed would probably cut his service to Sirona short, the monk dropped to the floor and rolled into a pit to dodge. Arrows flew harmlessly overhead, impaling themselves on the floor with a satisfying thud.
The Ranger laughed. "Think you can hide from me, do you? I’ve ferreted out worse." He gave a sharp whistle, and from above and magically into the vision of the spectators came a hunting falcon, who proceeded to hover right over the pit where the Monk was hiding.
With pressure from his feet, the Ranger commanded his horse to leap over the many pits towards the center, where he’d be sure to find the Monk. When he arrived, however, the Monk leapt out of the pit, into the air, rising to an inhuman height, startling the horse, who reared. The Ranger, though, due to his expertise, held on with his legs and shot at the Monk in the air. The religious man caught the arrow in the air a little flashily, hit the ground, and promptly grabbed and threw the Ranger face first into the pit. An audible crack resounded, making the audience collectively wince.
Creeping up to the edge, the Monk suddenly noticed a shadow. Whirling around, he found the sun blocked out by a large silhouette strangely resembling a horse. He quickly tumbled out of the way before his brain exited his skull. Meanwhile, the Ranger had taken advantage of the momentary distraction to climb out of the pit, though favoring his left arm and shoulder.
"You can’t hide from the gods here," the Monk said. With that, he ran, building up speed, chanting a prayer. He leapt, over the pit that nobody was supposed to leap over, and on his landing crushed a flower. The Ranger looked hurt in more ways than just his shoulder.
"Stay back, this man is dangerous. Look at him, destroying flowers like that!"
The Monk glared and rolled his sleeves up, which was everyone’s cue that he was about to do something special. He spread his legs out so they were about shoulder width. Chanting a mantra, he moved his arms in a blur. The Ranger thought - could he run? No, look at that energy building up in his body, it’s blue and it’s probably divine judgment or some trite name and I don’t think I have time to run and oh look he’s done I should stand my ground.
"Ray of Judgment!" the Monk yelled, for the benefit of the narrator. The crowd was disappointed when a small blue spark flew out of his right index finger and fused itself to the Ranger’s chest. The latter brushed it off nonchalantly.
"Is that it, my vest’s not even hot, are you kidding-"
Suddenly, a ray of light shot down from the heavens, totally immolating the Ranger. It was said by some that the last thing that disappeared under the bright ray was his grin. It engulfed his body in blue fire and shook the ground, making loud noises while it did so. Smoke built up even though the grass wasn’t burning.
The Monk looked pleased with himself, insofar as a man with no emotion could look pleased. Imagine his chagrin, then, when the fire and flames disappeared, and lo and behold the Ranger was still standing, his eyes closed, arms crossed, bits of blue flame still burning on his clothing, feet-shaped imprints in the ground where he had withstood the brunt of the attack.
"What? How did you..." Probably the first and only time the Monk had ever felt emotion in his life.
The ranger opened his eyes and stared at the Monk, causing a palpitation.
"Don’t you know? The gods aren’t real."
As his horse came galloping from behind, he grabbed the reins with his good hand and sped forward to the monk. Still stunned, the monk's reflexes were dulled, and he was grabbed by the Ranger and dropped into the center field. The Ranger quickly turned his horse around on the spot, causing the animal to deftly rear and land right on top of the Monk, crushing the fallen man to the ground. Of course, normally the Monk would have survived the impact, but he had the misfortune of landing on some of the fallen arrows, which impaled his head. Life fled his body to enter someone less stodgy and the field warped back.
Spoiler :
As the Ranger was led away from the field by the officials, grinning and waving his one good arm to the cheering audience, other officials rushed in to remove the flattened and impaled remains of the servant of Sirona. The mid-field was soon evacuated again, leaving room for a slightly higher ranking official walking in with a parchment in his hand. The hush, who had temporarily lifted its head to see what was going in, slipped and fell over the audience yet again. The official wasted no time:
"I hereby announce that the Marks have chosen their first champions. In the battle this evening we will have the privilege to see the Archmage take on the Devout in an arena of his choosing. That is all."
Evening fight: Devout vs Archmage, Archmage 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.
Team leaders, announce your teams' names!!
Betting is open for Devout vs Archmage. Place your bets in bold dark orange.
Love
Deity
The Devout sighs. First, he lost money at his bet on a compatriot. Second the death of a compatriot. Third, he has to fight a godless egoistic bearded man, who thinks he knows magic.
"Sirona bless her servant in death, and aid her devout in battle"
After praying quickly, the devout sits down to meditate. And when his eyes closed, so did the breathing and heartbeats, only to be waken up by the wings of a butterfly.
"Sirona bless her servant in death, and aid her devout in battle"
After praying quickly, the devout sits down to meditate. And when his eyes closed, so did the breathing and heartbeats, only to be waken up by the wings of a butterfly.
Diamondeye
So Happy I Could Die
The Harlequin clapped his hands in joy as the ranger emerged unscathed from the fires, and cheered loudly as the horse broke the monk's body. He promptly found a lyre, apparently from nowhere in particular, and started clasping the strings, making up a text as he goes:
"The monk fared forth, in spirit strong,
he thought he would win, but he was wrong,
the gods would take care of his spirit, of course,
but his body was crushed beneath a horse...
The Ranger, my friend,
he won in the end,
and now it's time for the Harlequin to hold,
stop singing and playing and go get his gold!"
The lyre disappears as mystically as it appeared and the Harlequin moves towards the bookmakers, cackling in a low voice to himself, teehee, teehee.
"The monk fared forth, in spirit strong,
he thought he would win, but he was wrong,
the gods would take care of his spirit, of course,
but his body was crushed beneath a horse...
The Ranger, my friend,
he won in the end,
and now it's time for the Harlequin to hold,
stop singing and playing and go get his gold!"
The lyre disappears as mystically as it appeared and the Harlequin moves towards the bookmakers, cackling in a low voice to himself, teehee, teehee.
{ OOC: Gold totals and score board are updated. If you see anything amiss, please let me know via PM. }
hell_hound
Prince
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2008
- Messages
- 409
The marksman strolls casually up to an official and asks under his voice
When do I have to have my bet in place for the next fight?
The official is buried in paperwork so he calmly stands in the shade waiting for a response
When do I have to have my bet in place for the next fight?
The official is buried in paperwork so he calmly stands in the shade waiting for a response
This is not the best of days. First my randomly assigned teammate decides that taking on all commers is a good idea. Secondly he actually loses the battle and third i lose my money betting on him. Ah well at leas the guy i am fighting against is nothing but an apprentice against me. Of course no opponent should be taken lightly so i better go study (oh and i also need to study for my examns which are very soon).
Sirona might bless her servant, but when one have lived as long as me you'll see that it doesn't help a whole lot.
Sirona might bless her servant, but when one have lived as long as me you'll see that it doesn't help a whole lot.
Diamondeye
So Happy I Could Die
"The next fight starts in the evening, and it's morning now. You make the maths, clever marksman. The Harlequin'll sing a song meanwhile. Any preferences, people? Do you want the Harlequin to sing about our next fighters?"
OOC: Two updates from now, Hell_Hound. That's 48 hours. You can bet until the battle starts.
OOC: Two updates from now, Hell_Hound. That's 48 hours. You can bet until the battle starts.
When the official notices the Marksman, he gives a small start, toppling a stack of paper. Angrily he snorts, but still has to answer, that's what he's hired for after all.
"All bets must be in at the latest when the bell tolls and the battle starts. Up until that point you can bet as much as you like."
"All bets must be in at the latest when the bell tolls and the battle starts. Up until that point you can bet as much as you like."
50 gold on the Archmage (edit to avoid double posting
If he says he can beat my friend the Devout, I believe him.
Sculptor vs Shaman for no particular reason other than that I want the points for being first to vote for the loser.
If he says he can beat my friend the Devout, I believe him.Sculptor vs Shaman for no particular reason other than that I want the points for being first to vote for the loser.
hell_hound
Prince
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2008
- Messages
- 409
hellhound chuckles under his breath, strolls calmly back to his tent and proceeds to carve more arrows for when the time comes to fight
Love
Deity
"Do you take me for an apprentice old man? I've searched for hidden relics far beyond enemy lands, from the scorching malak desert to the freezing Illian lands. I've killed many more beasts than you have read about in your books. I have obeyed the Goddess for long. She will aid me against the magic of egoism."
Diamondeye
So Happy I Could Die
"The Harlequin would love to see how a druid would handle a pony. By pony, he means centaur, of course..."
Love
Deity
No, Let the Ritualist fight the Eidolon
And let their dark powers consume them both.
And let their dark powers consume them both.
hell_hound
Prince
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2008
- Messages
- 409
Let the pony (centaur) fight as the harlequin says, but instead have him fight the lizardman, lets see how these non-humanoids handle themselves, and something tells me it will be well.
Splime
Regular Lurker
I'd like to bet 40 gold on the devout.
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
OOC: When is the next update by the way?
scherbchen
well that can´t be good
- Joined
- Aug 1, 2006
- Messages
- 3,530
"woohoo!" the satyr yelled, positively exuberant and giddy with adrenalin by the course of the battle. she did a little dance and then danced some more. she had been right, that was a first. she made money, certainly a novelty as well.
now there was another fight coming up. she hoped it would live up to the first one. who to bet on? first she needed to clear her head with the aid of some fine summer wine and a tavern wench... or a stable boy, she hadn't decided yet.
now there was another fight coming up. she hoped it would live up to the first one. who to bet on? first she needed to clear her head with the aid of some fine summer wine and a tavern wench... or a stable boy, she hadn't decided yet.
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