Anzeki is kicking out yet another group of pirates as Jack arrives to the tent. She hisses in his face as he comes in, and motions in an annoyed fashion towards her chair. On a nearby table she jostles needles and inks, as well as special materials to clean and disinfect. Turning back to Jack, she gives what could be considered a lizard sigh once…before coming at Jack with her clawed thumbs hooking *right* towards Jack’s eyeballs…
Before Jack can move, Anzeki grabs his face as his sits in the chair, her razor-like nails sitting dangerously upon his closed eyes. She holds him like this for an uncomfortably long time…before finally letting go, and stepping back. She looks at Jack with a quiet satisfaction. “Yesss. Yesss, you’ll do.” She begins to get her equipment prepared, closes the main flap of the tent for privacy.
“Sssssorry for the performance, but I get enough tourissssts. I am Anzeki. And YOU,” she looks into Jack’s eyes and soul as she says this. “…are another…*chortle* Wild Zzzzzzthing, yesssss? SSShhhh Sssssshhhh, It issss alright….I will sssssay nozzzzing, of course. I wassss taught to read ozzzers, you ssssee.” Anzeki pulls a chair up next to Jack, begins to clean the area on his shoulder with a stinging fluid. “I learned thissss technique from a legend of zzzzzee Ink…I am nowhere near assss good as sssshe, though. You may find her in the Issssle of Chaff if you go much further in….sssshe is hard to find though… goesss by the name of Ssssspot, and conducts her bussssiness in sssecret.”
Anzeki rests her hand on Jack’s head, in what could be considered a sweet gesture if her hand wasn’t so godawful heavy and the nails didn’t dig in quite so much. “You may wonder, why I tell you thissss? Becaussse, you ssssee, Ssssspot *lovessss* dogssss ”
“Now, assss to your Art…”
[Anzeki takes her time and considerable skill applying an intricate, beautifully drawn picture of a Grinning and Dancing Jackal to Jack’s shoulder. This art, besides being the Base for future Tattoos of A Nature, grants an advantage to Acrobatics checks for the next 24 hour period. Anzeki is also charging 100GP a tat, but for Jack, she’ll do it for 75 GP] URIXES
The Rak’Ta looks up at you slowly, as if in a daze. “…Zzz….zank you.” He speaks Common. He stares off into the distance for a moment in a way not unfamiliar to Urixes, leaning on the staff. You notice his affect and mannerisms are very strange for a Rak’Ta”: they are almost universally a strong, hard, and inscrutable people, but *this* one is obviously a bit different. He carries himself with a certain vunerabilty that you’ve never really seen among his kind. “You are….zzzery polite. More kind than my own tribe, perhapsss….”
He looks around at the swarm of people, as apart here as Urixes. “My mate passssed…jussst before I lossst my clutch. I thought, maybe with zzzem I could…” He growls, suddenly furiously angry in his subdued way. “…my people cannot continue like thissss. Living on ssscraps. Tearing each other apart, dessstroying our own ssssstrength. Our people sssshould not die for a ssspit of land, for a God who doessssn’t care for usssss…” He own claws dig into each other, splitting scales and gnarling the claw.
“…apologiessss, friend, I have not even given you my name. I am Sssstrike.” He sees Urixes’s puzzlement at the name, looks away in a kind of...embarrasment? “Yessss, well….it issss a name Jonassss helped me to learn. I took it upon mysssself. He taught me Common, assss well.” He leans on the staff, once more gripped by his sadness. “I wassss also a disciple of Vuurot and Dux. It issss….well, it isss part of why they, the ozzzzers, will not lisssssten.” He shakes his head in despair. “They do not want to change, zzzink zzzis isss our exisssstencce. But I fear if we do not change, if we do not adapt…” Strike looks away. You’ve only just met him, but you can certainly tell in this moment he is thinking of his eggs, of his mate.
[Urixes has made the acquaintance of Strike, the Quiet Revolutionary ]
Michael sure is a fan of strange and dangerous wares.
The massive Rak'Ta's chest lifts and heaves over Michael as he examines these strange wares. The brute seems particularly curious at your interest, having mostly dealt with burly, damaged brutes throughout the rest of the Festival...
Note: Regular cost, not Masterwork
(In addition to the linked items, other items available at the Exotic Weapons shop include: Flash Bangs (15 GP), Small Throwing Knives (5 copper), Assassin's Blood (120 GP), Truth Serum (120 GP)
Urixes joins Strike in staring into the middle distance, something he finds comforting in a melancholy, brooding sort of way. "The pain of loss is a universal language," he says, "One I've spoken many times, but never..." He trails off for a moment.
"I don't remember my family. Sometimes it feels like all there is for me is an endless cycle of sea and shore, death and rebirth, cold and light." He turns to Strike. "What if I could break that cycle? Rise above it all, and find a hopeful future? It seems you want the same for your people. I honor that, and if I can help in that journey I will."
Jack pockets the potions, looking confused but delighted. No one has ever given him presents for having fun before! He makes his way to the tattoo artist and is immediately swept up, the force of her personality seemingly disarming him completely as he only manages to mutter "'m not a dog..." before he's too busy holding back the yelps of pain. Ow. Ow. Ow ow ow. Why did no one tell him tattooing hurts??
He stumbles out of the tent looking out of it, with a glorious (and bleeding) tattoo and a good chunk of change poorer. Minus the tattoo that's not -that- uncommon of an evening for Jack, really.
In his somewhat altered state of mind he heads for the brightest, safest attraction he can see- the fire breather!
((OOC: I'm not sure how one would lose a limb breathing fire, but I'm sure Jack can find a way))
Still damp and a bit embarrassed from the flight failure, Arno strokes Mr Fusspots, avoiding the various nips. "What's that, what do you mean some action? Well, that is a bit intense, but if you really want to see blood, I guess we can check out the gladiator pits. Let's get Jack and..."
Arno sees the Rak'ta placing razor sharp claws a hair's breadth from Jack's eye.
"Seems Jack is making new friends. Looks like it is just us."
Oak's pride is bruised, as is his arms and possibly his chest, so he decides to take it easier for the festival and just wander. He notices Jack leaving the tattooing tent, and pauses silently watching him for a second. As the other man heads towards the fire breather, Oak shakes his head and follows. Jack and fire seem like a little too much danger to just let be for the night, regardless of what promises he had made to himself.
OOC: Oak's a sword and board fellow. Maybe pick up a two gander at some point now that he's the only barb.
Also, I was originally going to go for the tattoo g before I realized that Oak emus a hairy dude and they'd have to shave something to put a tattoo down. Not a good look for him
Strike slowly straightens up as he listens to Urixes’s hope. “Break the sssssycle…yessss, you are *mossst* right. We musssst. Zzzzank you, zzzzank you…my friend. I am ssssorry. About your family. You have helped me to underssstand, zat I sssstill have much of mine.“ Strike looks out with renwed admiration over the Rak’Ta among the festival-goers. He stands taller, and with more purpose now. He turns and displays all of his teeth to Urixes, which you understand to be his attempt at a smile.
“The Chief will not lisssten to me….doesss not ressspect me. He zzzinks my learning…my rejection of Sess’innek meansss I am lessssser, zat I do not love my people. Many of zzzem zink asss he doesss. But alsssso, many DO NOT. Among thosssse sssuch, Dux and Vuurot command muccch ressspect.”
“Ssssooo…I will go. I will try to ssstop zem *killing* each other. With zem, we may be able to convince sssome of zee others.” Strike looks nervous now, begins to pace. “…but the Chief, his people…zey will be furious with me, if I disssrupt the Ritual.” He begins to bite at his claws in anxiety. [OAK and JACK]
The Fire Breather gives a raucous *CAW* as Jack approaches. She flips the bottle with a flick of her wrist, which spins quickly in midair, turning and churning the liquid inside. Catching it, she hands it over with another flip to Jack. Demonstrating, she shows you that you’ll want to take a mouthful of this stuff, hold it for the few seconds it takes to get *HOT* (you'll know), and then blow it all out through your mouth (*not* your nose, definitely don’t do that!) at one of the Strawman targets. She eagerly goes to hand another bottle to Oak, if he wants it!
[A Constitution Check will determine Jack and/or Oak's effectiveness at Fire Breathing. Better than a 14 will hit and torch the Strawman target, which wins you a prize. Catastrophic failure may lead to any of the following: property damage/very angry pirates/torching an *actual* man] [ARNO]
Arno and Mr. Fusspot arrive and push their way into the crowds around the Pit. The air is thick here with sweat, smoke, testosterone. From on high, the Spinosaurus watches the action…astride it’s back, Arno can clearly make out Rax the Rambunctious, sitting right next to a highly decorated and burly Rak’Ta. His Bone Crown clearly indicates that this one is their Chief. They both participate in the yells and cheering with as much gumption as *any* of their kind. Hisses, jeers, and cheers ring throughout the arena.
The pirate fights have mostly worn down, with the crewmen having seen what sort of fights the Rak’Ta enjoy, and almost universally deciding they want no part of it. The Rak’ta, from your ship and the island alike, now simply fight each other. And the fights are…well, if you’re a fan of bloodsport, this is the best thing you’ve maybe ever seen. The Rak’Ta careen and exaggerate: between body blows and slashes to their opponents, they work up the crowd like a group of professional wrestlers…
[Arno has several options here. They can place bets on the fights (Roll a 1d10; if you can beat a five, you earn back an equal amount of money based on the bet (25 GP bet earns 25 GP, etc.) They can ask to *participate in a fight*, if they’d like (it will be one-on-one with a Rak’Ta of random choice, *not* to the death, but still a violent fight. It will be done Contest-style: DM check versus Player check. A win here earns you a special item, but the fight *won’t* be easy). They may also attempt to watch the fights, and learn from them: in this situation, Arno may make an Intelligence or Wisdom Check. On a success (better than 15), they will *truly* take in the ways the Rak’Ta do combat, and subsequently get an Advantage against them for Their next fight (*only* the one), should they ever encounter such a situation. Also: Mister Fusspot is a *big fan* of this stuff] [MICHAEL]
The Rak’ta male looms over you...the sound of his breathing alone subtly roars like a furnace. At Michael’s request, he leans over uncomfortably into your space, trying to hear you better. He nods his head, shaking over you like a large tree. From underneath the counter, he produces….a small paper notebook, filled with hard-to-read, but completely legible lizard scratches in ink. Flipping to a page, the Rak’Ta hands the notebook to Michael, tapping a picture and description:
Jack looks slightly out of it to Oak, however that appears to melt away as they arrive and watch the Fire Breather perform. The expression on his face is best described as "this is the best thing I have ever seen!".
He listens to the instructions with a big grin, "Wait until it goes hot, then out my... mouth? Mouth, got it." He positions himself, flashes the crowd a big grin, then takes a swig, cheeks bulging. One... Two... Three- The liquid rapidly goes from interesting to BURNING and, eyes tearing up, he blows it at the strawman. Or what his tearing eyes think is one.
Pirates in the area have already moved ten, twenty feet away from this space, in terrified anticipation. They all stay to watch, despite their trepidation. From every corner, you hear the anxious and harried warnings of "Lucky Jack" and "give him *fucking* Fire". The Rak'Ta doesn't know Jack's reputation, and doesn't move.
The liquid fire burning Jack within his mouth, he *whips* his head in sudden pain at a key moment... jerking his head up, he spits a stream of suddenly sprouting fire which instantly *ignites* a dried out tree twenty feet to the right of you, far out from the game. It begins to crackles and smoke...as the flames grow quickly, some of the upper branches begin to catch other nearby trees. The Rak'Ta hisses a command to others nearby, who go to fetch buckets of water kept for just such an occasion in a shed.
The pirates who stayed to watch begin a slow clap, clearly satisfied in their expectation. The Legend of Lucky Jack continues to grow among the Crew.
[The fire spreads subtly overhead, although at this point it's simply catching. People begin to slowly panic and flee, as the Rak'Ta and their water buckets don't seem to be doing the trick. The Rak'Ta attempt to calm everyone. The Fire Breather again presents a fire gourd to Oak, although this time she is very clear that the fire should be spat at the Strawmen, *not elsewhere* (a glare towards Jack). Despite their attempt to maintain normalcy, this fire will get out of hand soon, and require the Spinosaurus pair to step in and help put it out, and the area to be evacuated.]
Oak can only shake his head at Jack as he whips the stream of fire around, catching a tree on fire, and missing the strawman. The pirates watching clearly expected this, Jack's reputation amongst the crew continued to grow, though who knows if the young wolf cared that they weren't exactly cheering for his success in moments like these. Oak worries about the fire, not sure that the Rak'Ta were really getting it under control when the fire gourd is pushed toward him. He goes to decline, seeing what just happened, but something causes him to pause. Maybe it's the thrill of the festival, the loss he took to the Ram, or just watching Jack jump happily into danger given his lack of success so far, but Oak feels a tug to participate as well.
So he grabs the gourd, pops it open and brings it to his mouth in one motion. He gathers the liquid inside his mouth, feeling it heat up, straining to hold it until he can't stand the heat any longer, then he spits it out with all the strength he can muster.
Oak's spitfire emerges in a brilliant, curved arc. Three of the Strawmen catch and go aflame! We have a winner! The cheers this time are of the "impressed for a good reason" variety, from the few men still choosing to stay in the increasingly smoky area while the Rak'Ta attempt to put out the flames.
The Rak'Ta Fire Breather raises Oak's arm up for him in victory, giving another, triumphant loud *CAW* as she does so. She goes to get you your prize out a nearby chest (being the only Rak'Ta still not fighting the fire)...and just in front of her, a section of the tree overhead collapses, barely missing her and dropping down *directly* onto the chest. This begins a quick chain reaction on the ground, spreading between brush and some of the rough wooden furniture. Several of the Rak'Ta firefighters, realizing their situation, now run to get additional help.
The Fire Breather begins forcing people out of the area who haven't already gotten wise, using claws and tail when hissing and pointing don't do the trick. As she comes back to Oak and Jack, she realizes Oak never got his prize. Solving two birds with one stone, she clears a cache of the fire gourds out of the danger zone. Coming over, she pushes several of them into Oak's hands for his reward, making very sure as she does so that *he* (she clearly indicates Jack here) shouldn't be allowed near them. Then she motions you from the area, as she goes back to join a growing army of Rak'Ta with buckets.
[ Oak receives x3 Tiny Potions of Fire Breath. These are identical to Regular Potions of Fire Breathing, except that 1.) They are good for one use only. 2.) They must be used immediately upon use (effect *does not* last one hour) ]
Jack looks impressed with himself, pointing at the burning tree proudly, "Hey Oak, did you see that? I did that!" Oblivious to the clearly soured mood of the fire breather he stands back and lets the other crew member take his turn, applauding at their effort, "That's pretty good, but it's no tree, eh?"
He's still looking pleased as they're shoo'd away, looking over the handed-over potions with interest, "Oh, nice! We should put on a show on the ship sometime!" Having lost track of Arno he tags along with Oak until the next event.
The Rak'Ta brute turns and winks at you with his remaining eye. He lumberingly stoops down to replace the potion and the notebook... As he does so, Michael quietly sees a hidden drawer emerge near your feet, underneath the counter. The potion is inside...leave your money. Oh, and if anyone asks...you and this guy never met.
As Strike contemplates the monumental task in front of him, you both hear far off hoots and yells. Rising up in the distance, a fire is taking shape among treetops over in a separate part of the village. A dozen or more Rak’Ta run by you, carrying buckets sloshing with water.
The smoke begins to rise. Wind suddenly picks up on the island, whipping and swaying branches overhead. Between the smoke, and the festival lights, and the distant haze in the sky…Urixes and Strike see something amongst the tree branches. It is not a true vision; not like whatever you saw in the Aurora. It’s almost like a whispered suggestion from your subconscious: Urixes, for a brief moment, sees a sudden, shadowy tangle of tentacles, reaching out towards him. Strike sees a current made of snakes, flowing around each other in a circle, churning endlessly.
His anxiety fades away. Strike sees a clear path forward now.“…Fire. DESSSSTRUCTION. *Zzzat* issss how. But not as zzzey do. We musssst *burn* the old, do away with the *diseasssse*. Cleanssse the wound of our people, before we make it better. We mussst breathe life into the Rak’Ta, not into thisss placcce.” As he speaks to you, Urixes notices a sudden, strange blue and yellow glimmer wash over Strike’s wooden staff. It is momentary and then gone; you are not sure Strike himself even noticed.
“I mussst go…there are zzzings to procure. Dux and Vuurot, they will be at zzzza Pit, ready to begin the Ritual. Rax will…ssssanctify the ground, before they begin on each ozzzer. ZZZere izzz not much time.” Strike nods at you, then makes haste towards the Exotic Weapons Shop…
[Urixes has just witnessed a complete religious conversion- Strike has chosen the Way of the Life over the Way of Nature. He will meet you later at the Pit.]
Tough luck, friend! A pirate from the ship, clutching a bursting purse, begins taking money from those with losing bets. He takes Arno’s money last, with a mocking grin. “Beat one of you Wild Bunch, eh?” He nudges his fellows in braggadocios glory. Mister Fusspot goes to sneak out and bite the bookmaker, before Arno subtly and privately restrains him, ever so gently holding him back by his broken wing. Mister Fusspot lets them do this with considerable restraint, on his part.
Arno tries to watch the fighting, and take in the styles of the Rak’Ta, but the sound of the crowd and the distraction of the spectacle is too much to let them focus. Also, there’s a lot of giant overturned logs in the way of the action, and this crowd won’t stop weaving into their view… At one point, a glob of mud sprays out from a *particularly* awful encounter, and a chunk of what’s-mostly-mud-but-not-entirely lands on Arno’s back.
The next round is *so* much worse. From atop the Spinosaurus, swinging on a rope, Rax descends, cutglass held between his teeth. He lands in the Pit with a wet *BANG* amid the mud and wet, some of which showers spectators in the first row. Removing the sword and holding it now with flippancy, he leans down and bows in a theatrical manner, to hisses and applause from Rak’Ta and pirates alike. The Chief stands up fully atop the Dinosaur…he begins to shout something in Draconic to the assemblage. As the speech continues, two figures Arno recognizes emerge from opposite ends of the crowd, and drop themselves down into the mud.
While the Chief speaks, Vuurot and Dux, standing 180 degrees apart, work their way away/towards each other: each takes their wooden staff, and digs it into the mud at the sides of the Pit, carving at the edges. From the line, a faint red, magical glow begins to seep out. As they meet their line at the ends their mate came in at, Vuurot and Dux stop. They turn, and *dig* their staffs into the ground in front of them, as the now continuous circle pulses softly. Once the circle has completed…three Rak’Ta drop into the arena, all from opposite directions. They each make towards Rax…and the outcome, although always fraught, is never really in doubt.
As Rax expertly dispatches each of these cousins, using a combination of marital prowess, agility, sheer overwhelming strength, and some VERY clearly telegraphed (but then, expertly executed) dirty fighting, Rax one by one by one butchers these native Rak’Ta in front of theroaring crowd. Vuurot and Dux observe all; but never turn their heads, move, or attempt to interfere. Anyone watching the mud here sees a curious magic as well: the Rak’Ta blood hits the mud, but gets absorbed into the land, sucked down, and disappears *immediately*. As the Rak’Ta blood paints the battlefield and then disappears, the red circle hums and brightens. The crowd cheers again, stomping their feet as the last “sacrifice” goes down! Rax gives a salute with his cutlass…over *there* (towards the Chief)…over *there*, (towards the Shamans. He salutes once; each of the couple)…over *there*, towards a “random” spot in the crowd (here he searches the crowd for a few moments…and eventually picks out Arno). Tipping his sword in your direction (point first), he suddenly brings it back to his shoulder…licks the post-battle off of it.) OOC: RE: The next 48-ish hours or so IRL (maybe more)
I kind of wanted to feel you guys out about. I get the sense in the room that everyone in the party is just about ready for the Pit and the Main Event, and is done with the Festival. (If not this is also fine, and feel free to shop, or go anywhere except the Dinosaur Toss or Fire Breather!) However….the Main Event…IS READY, and posted up on my whiteboard as I type this. I can finish up the full narrative setup this evening, and have the situation ready to spark off as soon as the party all gets to the Pit (tonight/tomorrow latest, in that case).
That being said…anyone who needs tomorrow night, a couple days, A WEEK, off from this, due to some current events, may *absolutely* feel free to do so here and now with no regrets, and a *full* understanding we’ll all start up again when the four main party members (and Michael, if he would like to up his Guest/Full Member participation, question mark?) are ready and prepared.
I am also leaving open the option that maybe, possibly, some of you would rather do this tomorrow other than pay attention to the...alternate activities. If I’m being honest, if I’m not here I’ll probably be doom scrolling with some of the rest of you otherwise. But if enough if you guys would like, I'll do that instead. Feel free to leave an OOC: now regarding where you stand on “let’s play tomorrow and go away somewhere” versus “I’m too busy packing a van/watching the Real World burn”
((OOC: I am good to move on to the main event whenever! I personally don't need a break, but can certainly understand those that do, so, good to go whenever everyone else is up for it also))
OOC: I'm good for main event as well. At the moment, I'm all for continuing playing, though if the results tonight are bad, it may slow me down for a day to mentally recover. Then again, this escapism might be just what I need, so I'd rather continue for now.
OOC: I'm just a side character but I'm also about escapism. Also I think I'm done with the shady weapons dealer for now, gotta save some of this cash for other things, some of those weapons are pretty good though, if I run into any of the wild bunch on the way back to the boat I'll certainly point them in that fine gentleman's direction.
OOC: I'm good to go whenever! For Urixes part, I think he'd probably bid goodbye and good luck to Strike, then run to the fire to help put it out using (hopefully) a combination of Frostbite and Thunderwave. Otherwise I'm ready for the main event.
The Wild Bunch meets up again at the Pit. Arno and Mister Fusspot greet you all warmly, as you each push your way into the crowd, and eventually reassemble. Rax is done with his part of the fighting, and climbs up the North End of the Pit after the crowd flings a rope down to him. Volunteers clear the bodies. Rax rejoins the Chief atop the Spinosaurus…and as he gets there, he looks down and takes note of your party.
Down in the Pit, Dux and Vuurot both pull their staves from the mud…and *slowly* advance forward on each other. The crowd again takes up a loud, building cheer. A heated battle commences. Dux, targeting one of the tall tree trunks that have been wedged in and about the mud throughout the Pit, summons a sprouting length of vines which grow out and attempt to wrap themselves around Vuurot’s legs. Vuurot hits a the vines with his staff…as he does so, he shoots a small ball of flame from his hand, which *blasts* it’s way towards Dux. She jumps out of the way at the last second, falls into the mud. At the same time, Vuurot frees himself, jumps and throws himself at her. They both fall over as he hits. The pair begin to roll over and over each other in the mud, staves smacking together, jaws biting at necks and faces but (thus far) missing. And then, one of them gets the upper hand…
Dux digs her claws into Vuurot’s shoulder; wraps her jaws around his throat. The crowd bays for blood. But the Rak’Ta you met earlier, so eager to grow the Tribe’s Ma’ko, to make them whole again…hesitates for a moment. And in that moment…
“*SSSSSSTOP!*”
The bloodlust in the crowd dies down momentarily…a Rak’Ta, wrapped now in glimmering Chain Mail and clutching a well-made shield, marches through the gathering, as the crowd parts in spite of itself. Strike walks right past your group, nodding and “smiling” as he passes Urixes, and comes to the Southern Edge of the Pit. He looks down into the pit and addresses his mentors.
“It izzz *enough*! Zzzzisss dessstroysss usss! *HE, DESSSTROYSSS USSS!* ZEY,” Here, he points his staff accusingly and tip first: at the bloodthirsty tourists, towards the Governor’s ship, and finally, up at Rax. “Dessstroy ussss! No more! For the good of our people, for the good of our tribe….let uzz leave zzziss placcce, end zzzziss madnesssss!” Strike beseechs Dux. Vuurot has gone limp in her arms, seemingly having accepted his fate.
From on high, the Chief and Rax stare down menacingly at this exchange. The crowd has gone quiet. Dux hasn’t moved.
Urixes jumps to his feet, excitement filling him as he watches Strike make his stand. He holds back for now, but he's on a knife's edge, ready to leap down to Strike's aid if necessary.
In the next moment, Dux gives one final and fatal *wrench* with her jaws. Vuurot spits up blood, and goes limp in her arms. The crowd goes wild.
As this happens, the Rak’Ta faithful near Strike collectively rise up, hissing and snarling, and shove him down into the Pit, where he lands with a defeated *thwump* into the mud. As the cheers turn into boos, and Dux, head cast downward, makes her way to the rope being dropped to the North, Rax addresses the gathering in Draconic:
“A traitor! Yes, and a coward! A betrayer of our people! He hopes to drive us apart, and divide us, but *we* know the truth! The blood feeds the Snake, and the Snake makes the world! There are those that watch the inside…there are those that watch the outside…for HIM! FOR US! FOR THE POWER OF OUR PEOPLE! HE GROWS STRONG, AND WE GROW STRONGER!”
[The Rak’Ta in the area take up the chant in Draconic: “HE GROWS STRONG, WE GROW STRONGER”. The pirates from the ship look around them in bewilderment. At least some of those folks came here for fights, and not a sudden and frightening “rising of the Lizardfolk” moment. They begin to look for exits, but the crowd packs in densely to hear Rax’s speech.]
Rax now points directly at the Wild Bunch, and addresses the crowd in Common. “And you can zzzee, he takesss company….with *thozzze* people! Za’ Wild Bunch, ya?” Rax spits in disgust. “Za onesss who take company with Governorssss, and Baronsss! Za onesss who try to infiltrate our people,” he says, swinging an accusatory finger at Arno. “Za ones who make themssselves willing petssss, to thossse that would hold ussss.”
“…You know what I zink? Zey came here, with that *traitor*, to sssssit and partake of our Ritual. Let zzem zzzee it, zeeen . Let *them* feed , zaa Snake…” Arms and claws begin to push and shove, carry and move the Wild Bunch against their will: Rak’Ta faithful, the followers of of Rax, are physically forcing the party into the Pit. As you each land with a *plop* in the mud, you hear a cheer that is purely Rak’Ta in nature this time, and coming from less than half of the crowd. Some faces you recognize, (from both the ship and the village; both pirate and Rak’Ta) are incredibly uncomfortable, and very obviously scared with where the evening has suddenly gone. They watch now less with entertainment than in rapt horror, hoping they don’t draw the attention of the mob next.
The Wild Bunch lands in the south of the Pit. Across from you, to the North, Rax has called out four members of his following to jump down and earn their Ma’ko, by giving *your* blood to the Snake.
Battle commences!
*Everywhere* here is Difficult Terrain, limiting 30 feet of movement to 3 squares inside the Pit (3 squares=15 feet). The sides are unscaleable, and the Rak’Ta following orders from Rax would just push you back in anyway. Indicate movement as follows (example: move two space north, one west)
Brown Circles- Large Cut Oak Trunks, Jammed Into the Mud and about ten feet high apiece. These indicate areas of ¾ cover from shot or thrown projectiles (a target considered “covered” gets a +5 bouns to AC and Dexterity Saving Throws)
Initiative Order:
1. Oak
2. Jack
3. Urixes
4. Lizardfolk A (15 AC)
5. Lizardfolk C (15 AC)
6. Lizardfolk Shaman X (13 AC)
7. Lizardfolk B (15 AC)
8. Arno
9. Strike
The scene shifts too fast for Oak's liking. Whatever fight was happening here seemed wrong, and with it, the denial of the interrupter happened just as fast. Something was off, and Oak was already getting weary of just being here. That didn't stop what followed, however, as he was unceremoniously shoved down into the Pit. Lizardfolk lined up across from them, ready to spill their blood. Oak's vision goes red, as he lets himself sink into the fact that this crowd was baying for their blood as a sacrifice, when at worst they were generically associated with the ship, an apparent symbol to the mass of Lizardfolk here. "Well then, if it's blood ya want, I'll just have to deliver it for ya."
Oak stomps toward the opposing group, sword and shield ready, not content to wait for them to approach but seeking out the battle.
OOC:Going into a Rage.
Moving straight ahead 3 spaces.
Readying an action so that if someone comes within Melee, taking a swing.
OOC: *Fully* armed and ready to roll...these guys want your blood and just shoved you in a pit, but also have very much respect for the art of battle, and their opponent. They wouldn't kill an unarmed or unarmored foe (especially not in this hallowed space), and would allow you just enough time to get ready, before they made their way over to drive their claws into your eyes, and eat your hearts.
Posts
Anzeki is kicking out yet another group of pirates as Jack arrives to the tent. She hisses in his face as he comes in, and motions in an annoyed fashion towards her chair. On a nearby table she jostles needles and inks, as well as special materials to clean and disinfect. Turning back to Jack, she gives what could be considered a lizard sigh once…before coming at Jack with her clawed thumbs hooking *right* towards Jack’s eyeballs…
Before Jack can move, Anzeki grabs his face as his sits in the chair, her razor-like nails sitting dangerously upon his closed eyes. She holds him like this for an uncomfortably long time…before finally letting go, and stepping back. She looks at Jack with a quiet satisfaction. “Yesss. Yesss, you’ll do.” She begins to get her equipment prepared, closes the main flap of the tent for privacy.
“Sssssorry for the performance, but I get enough tourissssts. I am Anzeki. And YOU,” she looks into Jack’s eyes and soul as she says this. “…are another…*chortle* Wild Zzzzzzthing, yesssss? SSShhhh Sssssshhhh, It issss alright….I will sssssay nozzzzing, of course. I wassss taught to read ozzzers, you ssssee.” Anzeki pulls a chair up next to Jack, begins to clean the area on his shoulder with a stinging fluid. “I learned thissss technique from a legend of zzzzzee Ink…I am nowhere near assss good as sssshe, though. You may find her in the Issssle of Chaff if you go much further in….sssshe is hard to find though… goesss by the name of Ssssspot, and conducts her bussssiness in sssecret.”
Anzeki rests her hand on Jack’s head, in what could be considered a sweet gesture if her hand wasn’t so godawful heavy and the nails didn’t dig in quite so much. “You may wonder, why I tell you thissss? Becaussse, you ssssee, Ssssspot *lovessss* dogssss ”
“Now, assss to your Art…”
[Anzeki takes her time and considerable skill applying an intricate, beautifully drawn picture of a Grinning and Dancing Jackal to Jack’s shoulder. This art, besides being the Base for future Tattoos of A Nature, grants an advantage to Acrobatics checks for the next 24 hour period. Anzeki is also charging 100GP a tat, but for Jack, she’ll do it for 75 GP]
URIXES
The Rak’Ta looks up at you slowly, as if in a daze. “…Zzz….zank you.” He speaks Common. He stares off into the distance for a moment in a way not unfamiliar to Urixes, leaning on the staff. You notice his affect and mannerisms are very strange for a Rak’Ta”: they are almost universally a strong, hard, and inscrutable people, but *this* one is obviously a bit different. He carries himself with a certain vunerabilty that you’ve never really seen among his kind. “You are….zzzery polite. More kind than my own tribe, perhapsss….”
He looks around at the swarm of people, as apart here as Urixes. “My mate passssed…jussst before I lossst my clutch. I thought, maybe with zzzem I could…” He growls, suddenly furiously angry in his subdued way. “…my people cannot continue like thissss. Living on ssscraps. Tearing each other apart, dessstroying our own ssssstrength. Our people sssshould not die for a ssspit of land, for a God who doessssn’t care for usssss…” He own claws dig into each other, splitting scales and gnarling the claw.
“…apologiessss, friend, I have not even given you my name. I am Sssstrike.” He sees Urixes’s puzzlement at the name, looks away in a kind of...embarrasment? “Yessss, well….it issss a name Jonassss helped me to learn. I took it upon mysssself. He taught me Common, assss well.” He leans on the staff, once more gripped by his sadness. “I wassss also a disciple of Vuurot and Dux. It issss….well, it isss part of why they, the ozzzzers, will not lisssssten.” He shakes his head in despair. “They do not want to change, zzzink zzzis isss our exisssstencce. But I fear if we do not change, if we do not adapt…” Strike looks away. You’ve only just met him, but you can certainly tell in this moment he is thinking of his eggs, of his mate.
[Urixes has made the acquaintance of Strike, the Quiet Revolutionary ]
The massive Rak'Ta's chest lifts and heaves over Michael as he examines these strange wares. The brute seems particularly curious at your interest, having mostly dealt with burly, damaged brutes throughout the rest of the Festival...
Note: Regular cost, not Masterwork
(In addition to the linked items, other items available at the Exotic Weapons shop include: Flash Bangs (15 GP), Small Throwing Knives (5 copper), Assassin's Blood (120 GP), Truth Serum (120 GP)
"I don't remember my family. Sometimes it feels like all there is for me is an endless cycle of sea and shore, death and rebirth, cold and light." He turns to Strike. "What if I could break that cycle? Rise above it all, and find a hopeful future? It seems you want the same for your people. I honor that, and if I can help in that journey I will."
He stumbles out of the tent looking out of it, with a glorious (and bleeding) tattoo and a good chunk of change poorer. Minus the tattoo that's not -that- uncommon of an evening for Jack, really.
In his somewhat altered state of mind he heads for the brightest, safest attraction he can see- the fire breather!
((OOC: I'm not sure how one would lose a limb breathing fire, but I'm sure Jack can find a way))
Arno sees the Rak'ta placing razor sharp claws a hair's breadth from Jack's eye.
"Seems Jack is making new friends. Looks like it is just us."
OOC: Oak's a sword and board fellow. Maybe pick up a two gander at some point now that he's the only barb.
Also, I was originally going to go for the tattoo g before I realized that Oak emus a hairy dude and they'd have to shave something to put a tattoo down. Not a good look for him
Strike slowly straightens up as he listens to Urixes’s hope. “Break the sssssycle…yessss, you are *mossst* right. We musssst. Zzzzank you, zzzzank you…my friend. I am ssssorry. About your family. You have helped me to underssstand, zat I sssstill have much of mine.“ Strike looks out with renwed admiration over the Rak’Ta among the festival-goers. He stands taller, and with more purpose now. He turns and displays all of his teeth to Urixes, which you understand to be his attempt at a smile.
“The Chief will not lisssten to me….doesss not ressspect me. He zzzinks my learning…my rejection of Sess’innek meansss I am lessssser, zat I do not love my people. Many of zzzem zink asss he doesss. But alsssso, many DO NOT. Among thosssse sssuch, Dux and Vuurot command muccch ressspect.”
“Ssssooo…I will go. I will try to ssstop zem *killing* each other. With zem, we may be able to convince sssome of zee others.” Strike looks nervous now, begins to pace. “…but the Chief, his people…zey will be furious with me, if I disssrupt the Ritual.” He begins to bite at his claws in anxiety.
[OAK and JACK]
The Fire Breather gives a raucous *CAW* as Jack approaches. She flips the bottle with a flick of her wrist, which spins quickly in midair, turning and churning the liquid inside. Catching it, she hands it over with another flip to Jack. Demonstrating, she shows you that you’ll want to take a mouthful of this stuff, hold it for the few seconds it takes to get *HOT* (you'll know), and then blow it all out through your mouth (*not* your nose, definitely don’t do that!) at one of the Strawman targets. She eagerly goes to hand another bottle to Oak, if he wants it!
[A Constitution Check will determine Jack and/or Oak's effectiveness at Fire Breathing. Better than a 14 will hit and torch the Strawman target, which wins you a prize. Catastrophic failure may lead to any of the following: property damage/very angry pirates/torching an *actual* man]
[ARNO]
Arno and Mr. Fusspot arrive and push their way into the crowds around the Pit. The air is thick here with sweat, smoke, testosterone. From on high, the Spinosaurus watches the action…astride it’s back, Arno can clearly make out Rax the Rambunctious, sitting right next to a highly decorated and burly Rak’Ta. His Bone Crown clearly indicates that this one is their Chief. They both participate in the yells and cheering with as much gumption as *any* of their kind. Hisses, jeers, and cheers ring throughout the arena.
The pirate fights have mostly worn down, with the crewmen having seen what sort of fights the Rak’Ta enjoy, and almost universally deciding they want no part of it. The Rak’ta, from your ship and the island alike, now simply fight each other. And the fights are…well, if you’re a fan of bloodsport, this is the best thing you’ve maybe ever seen. The Rak’Ta careen and exaggerate: between body blows and slashes to their opponents, they work up the crowd like a group of professional wrestlers…
[Arno has several options here. They can place bets on the fights (Roll a 1d10; if you can beat a five, you earn back an equal amount of money based on the bet (25 GP bet earns 25 GP, etc.) They can ask to *participate in a fight*, if they’d like (it will be one-on-one with a Rak’Ta of random choice, *not* to the death, but still a violent fight. It will be done Contest-style: DM check versus Player check. A win here earns you a special item, but the fight *won’t* be easy). They may also attempt to watch the fights, and learn from them: in this situation, Arno may make an Intelligence or Wisdom Check. On a success (better than 15), they will *truly* take in the ways the Rak’Ta do combat, and subsequently get an Advantage against them for Their next fight (*only* the one), should they ever encounter such a situation. Also: Mister Fusspot is a *big fan* of this stuff]
[MICHAEL]
The Rak’ta male looms over you...the sound of his breathing alone subtly roars like a furnace. At Michael’s request, he leans over uncomfortably into your space, trying to hear you better. He nods his head, shaking over you like a large tree. From underneath the counter, he produces….a small paper notebook, filled with hard-to-read, but completely legible lizard scratches in ink. Flipping to a page, the Rak’Ta hands the notebook to Michael, tapping a picture and description:
Note: Besides the noted effects, this Poison will also inflict one level of Exhaustion on a poisoned target
He listens to the instructions with a big grin, "Wait until it goes hot, then out my... mouth? Mouth, got it." He positions himself, flashes the crowd a big grin, then takes a swig, cheeks bulging. One... Two... Three- The liquid rapidly goes from interesting to BURNING and, eyes tearing up, he blows it at the strawman. Or what his tearing eyes think is one.
Geth, roll 1d20+3 for Not Setting Oak On Fire
((OOC: I cannot imagine how burning inspiration to win a prize at the local fair could possibly come and bite me in the butt later))
[edit] I choose to keep my second roll. 8-)
The liquid fire burning Jack within his mouth, he *whips* his head in sudden pain at a key moment... jerking his head up, he spits a stream of suddenly sprouting fire which instantly *ignites* a dried out tree twenty feet to the right of you, far out from the game. It begins to crackles and smoke...as the flames grow quickly, some of the upper branches begin to catch other nearby trees. The Rak'Ta hisses a command to others nearby, who go to fetch buckets of water kept for just such an occasion in a shed.
The pirates who stayed to watch begin a slow clap, clearly satisfied in their expectation. The Legend of Lucky Jack continues to grow among the Crew.
So he grabs the gourd, pops it open and brings it to his mouth in one motion. He gathers the liquid inside his mouth, feeling it heat up, straining to hold it until he can't stand the heat any longer, then he spits it out with all the strength he can muster.
Geth, roll 1d20+5 for Burn, Baby, Burn
The Rak'Ta Fire Breather raises Oak's arm up for him in victory, giving another, triumphant loud *CAW* as she does so. She goes to get you your prize out a nearby chest (being the only Rak'Ta still not fighting the fire)...and just in front of her, a section of the tree overhead collapses, barely missing her and dropping down *directly* onto the chest. This begins a quick chain reaction on the ground, spreading between brush and some of the rough wooden furniture. Several of the Rak'Ta firefighters, realizing their situation, now run to get additional help.
The Fire Breather begins forcing people out of the area who haven't already gotten wise, using claws and tail when hissing and pointing don't do the trick. As she comes back to Oak and Jack, she realizes Oak never got his prize. Solving two birds with one stone, she clears a cache of the fire gourds out of the danger zone. Coming over, she pushes several of them into Oak's hands for his reward, making very sure as she does so that *he* (she clearly indicates Jack here) shouldn't be allowed near them. Then she motions you from the area, as she goes back to join a growing army of Rak'Ta with buckets.
[ Oak receives x3 Tiny Potions of Fire Breath. These are identical to Regular Potions of Fire Breathing, except that 1.) They are good for one use only. 2.) They must be used immediately upon use (effect *does not* last one hour) ]
OOC: Tonight's Main Event will occur once the whole party has regrouped at the Pit
He's still looking pleased as they're shoo'd away, looking over the handed-over potions with interest, "Oh, nice! We should put on a show on the ship sometime!" Having lost track of Arno he tags along with Oak until the next event.
As Strike contemplates the monumental task in front of him, you both hear far off hoots and yells. Rising up in the distance, a fire is taking shape among treetops over in a separate part of the village. A dozen or more Rak’Ta run by you, carrying buckets sloshing with water.
The smoke begins to rise. Wind suddenly picks up on the island, whipping and swaying branches overhead. Between the smoke, and the festival lights, and the distant haze in the sky…Urixes and Strike see something amongst the tree branches. It is not a true vision; not like whatever you saw in the Aurora. It’s almost like a whispered suggestion from your subconscious: Urixes, for a brief moment, sees a sudden, shadowy tangle of tentacles, reaching out towards him. Strike sees a current made of snakes, flowing around each other in a circle, churning endlessly.
His anxiety fades away. Strike sees a clear path forward now.“…Fire. DESSSSTRUCTION. *Zzzat* issss how. But not as zzzey do. We musssst *burn* the old, do away with the *diseasssse*. Cleanssse the wound of our people, before we make it better. We mussst breathe life into the Rak’Ta, not into thisss placcce.” As he speaks to you, Urixes notices a sudden, strange blue and yellow glimmer wash over Strike’s wooden staff. It is momentary and then gone; you are not sure Strike himself even noticed.
“I mussst go…there are zzzings to procure. Dux and Vuurot, they will be at zzzza Pit, ready to begin the Ritual. Rax will…ssssanctify the ground, before they begin on each ozzzer. ZZZere izzz not much time.” Strike nods at you, then makes haste towards the Exotic Weapons Shop…
[Urixes has just witnessed a complete religious conversion- Strike has chosen the Way of the Life over the Way of Nature. He will meet you later at the Pit.]
Geth roll 1d20+3 for Wisdom to see the blades of the future
Tough luck, friend! A pirate from the ship, clutching a bursting purse, begins taking money from those with losing bets. He takes Arno’s money last, with a mocking grin. “Beat one of you Wild Bunch, eh?” He nudges his fellows in braggadocios glory. Mister Fusspot goes to sneak out and bite the bookmaker, before Arno subtly and privately restrains him, ever so gently holding him back by his broken wing. Mister Fusspot lets them do this with considerable restraint, on his part.
Arno tries to watch the fighting, and take in the styles of the Rak’Ta, but the sound of the crowd and the distraction of the spectacle is too much to let them focus. Also, there’s a lot of giant overturned logs in the way of the action, and this crowd won’t stop weaving into their view… At one point, a glob of mud sprays out from a *particularly* awful encounter, and a chunk of what’s-mostly-mud-but-not-entirely lands on Arno’s back.
The next round is *so* much worse. From atop the Spinosaurus, swinging on a rope, Rax descends, cutglass held between his teeth. He lands in the Pit with a wet *BANG* amid the mud and wet, some of which showers spectators in the first row. Removing the sword and holding it now with flippancy, he leans down and bows in a theatrical manner, to hisses and applause from Rak’Ta and pirates alike. The Chief stands up fully atop the Dinosaur…he begins to shout something in Draconic to the assemblage. As the speech continues, two figures Arno recognizes emerge from opposite ends of the crowd, and drop themselves down into the mud.
While the Chief speaks, Vuurot and Dux, standing 180 degrees apart, work their way away/towards each other: each takes their wooden staff, and digs it into the mud at the sides of the Pit, carving at the edges. From the line, a faint red, magical glow begins to seep out. As they meet their line at the ends their mate came in at, Vuurot and Dux stop. They turn, and *dig* their staffs into the ground in front of them, as the now continuous circle pulses softly. Once the circle has completed…three Rak’Ta drop into the arena, all from opposite directions. They each make towards Rax…and the outcome, although always fraught, is never really in doubt.
As Rax expertly dispatches each of these cousins, using a combination of marital prowess, agility, sheer overwhelming strength, and some VERY clearly telegraphed (but then, expertly executed) dirty fighting, Rax one by one by one butchers these native Rak’Ta in front of theroaring crowd. Vuurot and Dux observe all; but never turn their heads, move, or attempt to interfere. Anyone watching the mud here sees a curious magic as well: the Rak’Ta blood hits the mud, but gets absorbed into the land, sucked down, and disappears *immediately*. As the Rak’Ta blood paints the battlefield and then disappears, the red circle hums and brightens. The crowd cheers again, stomping their feet as the last “sacrifice” goes down! Rax gives a salute with his cutlass…over *there* (towards the Chief)…over *there*, (towards the Shamans. He salutes once; each of the couple)…over *there*, towards a “random” spot in the crowd (here he searches the crowd for a few moments…and eventually picks out Arno). Tipping his sword in your direction (point first), he suddenly brings it back to his shoulder…licks the post-battle off of it.)
OOC: RE: The next 48-ish hours or so IRL (maybe more)
That being said…anyone who needs tomorrow night, a couple days, A WEEK, off from this, due to some current events, may *absolutely* feel free to do so here and now with no regrets, and a *full* understanding we’ll all start up again when the four main party members (and Michael, if he would like to up his Guest/Full Member participation, question mark?) are ready and prepared.
I am also leaving open the option that maybe, possibly, some of you would rather do this tomorrow other than pay attention to the...alternate activities. If I’m being honest, if I’m not here I’ll probably be doom scrolling with some of the rest of you otherwise. But if enough if you guys would like, I'll do that instead. Feel free to leave an OOC: now regarding where you stand on “let’s play tomorrow and go away somewhere” versus “I’m too busy packing a van/watching the Real World burn”
The Wild Bunch meets up again at the Pit. Arno and Mister Fusspot greet you all warmly, as you each push your way into the crowd, and eventually reassemble. Rax is done with his part of the fighting, and climbs up the North End of the Pit after the crowd flings a rope down to him. Volunteers clear the bodies. Rax rejoins the Chief atop the Spinosaurus…and as he gets there, he looks down and takes note of your party.
Down in the Pit, Dux and Vuurot both pull their staves from the mud…and *slowly* advance forward on each other. The crowd again takes up a loud, building cheer. A heated battle commences. Dux, targeting one of the tall tree trunks that have been wedged in and about the mud throughout the Pit, summons a sprouting length of vines which grow out and attempt to wrap themselves around Vuurot’s legs. Vuurot hits a the vines with his staff…as he does so, he shoots a small ball of flame from his hand, which *blasts* it’s way towards Dux. She jumps out of the way at the last second, falls into the mud. At the same time, Vuurot frees himself, jumps and throws himself at her. They both fall over as he hits. The pair begin to roll over and over each other in the mud, staves smacking together, jaws biting at necks and faces but (thus far) missing. And then, one of them gets the upper hand…
Geth roll 1d20+2 for Dux
Geth roll 1d20+2 for Vuurot
Dux digs her claws into Vuurot’s shoulder; wraps her jaws around his throat. The crowd bays for blood. But the Rak’Ta you met earlier, so eager to grow the Tribe’s Ma’ko, to make them whole again…hesitates for a moment. And in that moment…
“*SSSSSSTOP!*”
The bloodlust in the crowd dies down momentarily…a Rak’Ta, wrapped now in glimmering Chain Mail and clutching a well-made shield, marches through the gathering, as the crowd parts in spite of itself. Strike walks right past your group, nodding and “smiling” as he passes Urixes, and comes to the Southern Edge of the Pit. He looks down into the pit and addresses his mentors.
“It izzz *enough*! Zzzzisss dessstroysss usss! *HE, DESSSTROYSSS USSS!* ZEY,” Here, he points his staff accusingly and tip first: at the bloodthirsty tourists, towards the Governor’s ship, and finally, up at Rax. “Dessstroy ussss! No more! For the good of our people, for the good of our tribe….let uzz leave zzziss placcce, end zzzziss madnesssss!” Strike beseechs Dux. Vuurot has gone limp in her arms, seemingly having accepted his fate.
From on high, the Chief and Rax stare down menacingly at this exchange. The crowd has gone quiet. Dux hasn’t moved.
Geth roll 1d20-1 for Spark A Revolution
As this happens, the Rak’Ta faithful near Strike collectively rise up, hissing and snarling, and shove him down into the Pit, where he lands with a defeated *thwump* into the mud. As the cheers turn into boos, and Dux, head cast downward, makes her way to the rope being dropped to the North, Rax addresses the gathering in Draconic:
“A traitor! Yes, and a coward! A betrayer of our people! He hopes to drive us apart, and divide us, but *we* know the truth! The blood feeds the Snake, and the Snake makes the world! There are those that watch the inside…there are those that watch the outside…for HIM! FOR US! FOR THE POWER OF OUR PEOPLE! HE GROWS STRONG, AND WE GROW STRONGER!”
[The Rak’Ta in the area take up the chant in Draconic: “HE GROWS STRONG, WE GROW STRONGER”. The pirates from the ship look around them in bewilderment. At least some of those folks came here for fights, and not a sudden and frightening “rising of the Lizardfolk” moment. They begin to look for exits, but the crowd packs in densely to hear Rax’s speech.]
Rax now points directly at the Wild Bunch, and addresses the crowd in Common. “And you can zzzee, he takesss company….with *thozzze* people! Za’ Wild Bunch, ya?” Rax spits in disgust. “Za onesss who take company with Governorssss, and Baronsss! Za onesss who try to infiltrate our people,” he says, swinging an accusatory finger at Arno. “Za ones who make themssselves willing petssss, to thossse that would hold ussss.”
“…You know what I zink? Zey came here, with that *traitor*, to sssssit and partake of our Ritual. Let zzem zzzee it, zeeen . Let *them* feed , zaa Snake…” Arms and claws begin to push and shove, carry and move the Wild Bunch against their will: Rak’Ta faithful, the followers of of Rax, are physically forcing the party into the Pit. As you each land with a *plop* in the mud, you hear a cheer that is purely Rak’Ta in nature this time, and coming from less than half of the crowd. Some faces you recognize, (from both the ship and the village; both pirate and Rak’Ta) are incredibly uncomfortable, and very obviously scared with where the evening has suddenly gone. They watch now less with entertainment than in rapt horror, hoping they don’t draw the attention of the mob next.
The Wild Bunch lands in the south of the Pit. Across from you, to the North, Rax has called out four members of his following to jump down and earn their Ma’ko, by giving *your* blood to the Snake.
*Everywhere* here is Difficult Terrain, limiting 30 feet of movement to 3 squares inside the Pit (3 squares=15 feet). The sides are unscaleable, and the Rak’Ta following orders from Rax would just push you back in anyway. Indicate movement as follows (example: move two space north, one west)
Brown Circles- Large Cut Oak Trunks, Jammed Into the Mud and about ten feet high apiece. These indicate areas of ¾ cover from shot or thrown projectiles (a target considered “covered” gets a +5 bouns to AC and Dexterity Saving Throws)
Geth roll 1d20+2 for Arno (Initiative)
Geth roll 1d20+3 for Jack (Initiative)
Geth roll 1d20+2 for Oak (Initiative)
Geth roll 1d20+2 for Urixes (Initiative)
Geth roll 1d20 Lizardfolk A
Geth roll 1d20 for Lizardfolk B
Geth roll 1d20 for Lizardfolk C
Geth roll 1d20 for Lizardfolk Shaman X
1. Oak
2. Jack
3. Urixes
4. Lizardfolk A (15 AC)
5. Lizardfolk C (15 AC)
6. Lizardfolk Shaman X (13 AC)
7. Lizardfolk B (15 AC)
8. Arno
9. Strike
[Round 1 - *FIGHT*]
Oak stomps toward the opposing group, sword and shield ready, not content to wait for them to approach but seeking out the battle.
OOC:Going into a Rage.
Moving straight ahead 3 spaces.
Readying an action so that if someone comes within Melee, taking a swing.