The Necromancer's Guild

"Going to Mordor!" Cried Pippin. "I hope it won’t come to that!"
Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Image

In an ash choked valley overlooked by the Ephel Dúath there sits a crudely painted wooden sign: NECROMANCER’S GUILD
What it was has been lost to the long, bloody history of the Black Lands what it is now though…

Welcome to the Necromancer’s Guild, Mordor’s newest (and best) underground fight club.
You’re one of the select few that has received an invitation to this hidden place.

Passing the decrepit sign you see a massive, circular pit filled with red dirt and sand with stones built along the edges. There is a single entry point, a creaky wooden gate, another remnant of whatever the Necromancer’s Guild used to be. Beside that gate stands an orc with a wide flat blade resting lazily on his shoulder, Nyrrigos is his name, the Master of Ceremonies. Should you wish to test your mettle, you must go to him to secure a bout.

Beyond the fighting pit there’s a makeshift, rag tag bar cobbled together with decaying wood, old stones, and rusted bits of metal. Behind the bar is a lanky but wiry orc named Mozran, not only is he the barman, but he’s a Master Brewer and Sommelier, the only one in all the Black Lands. He has a constantly rotating menu of beers, stouts, ciders, and meads. Beware though, his brews are only cheap for the winners of the pit, everyone else has to pay top coin.

There are tables set up around the pit, angled perfectly for viewing ease. If you choose to sit here, you may be served by either Ashra or Hadira, two Easterling youths paying off a debt to Morzan by acting as servers for the various denizens and patrons of the Necromancer’s Guild.

Should you want to place a bet on the outcome of a bout, you’ll want to seek out Mig the Bookie, a goblin and a whiz with an abacas. But be careful, he may try and cheat you.

Should any patron become too rowdy, they will have the misfortune of meeting Korgrîn, Nyrrigos’ uruk bouncer, and being tossed bodily from the guild (or worse).

Special VIP booths can be arranged for a small fee for anyone wishing for a barrier between themselves and the riffraff.

All characters aside from Nyrrigos (Frost) and Mig the Bookie (Tara) are NPCs to godmode unless a specific person wants to play them (just shoot me a message on discord if you want one)

Bout Mechanics
- Each combatant is unarmed
- Each combatant begins with 25 HP
- At the beginning of a round a combatant can select to defend or attack; defending will help against attacks made against you, but you cannot attack that round
- Defending forces the attacking player to roll at disadvantage (2 rolls with the lower being accepted)
- To attack, a d20 will be rolled by the GM (Frost) and the outcome will be weighed against the opponent’s Armor Class (AC) of 10. If the roll is higher the attack land. From there the GM will roll a d4 to determine the damage taken
- Natural 1s and Natural 20s will result in special effects at the whim of the GM
- Once a character has reached 0 HP the match is over and a victor declared
- A victory will result in bonuses for the player in their next bout, these bonuses will stack
- All bonuses will be forfeited if the player loses
- Certain characters will be granted starting bonuses (based on their Black Host rank)
- All fighting posts will count as renown for Black Host members with bonuses for victories

A special thank you to @Winddancer, @Moriel, @Zôrzimril, and @Allacan ob Burzum for all the assistance and help along the way
Last edited by Akhenanat on Wed Sep 09, 2020 8:27 am, edited 1 time in total.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
Silendris, competing

Silendris felt cheated. This was the Necromancer’s Guild, and as such they had come along to inquire about the usual - meeting other Necromancers, sourcing properly maintained bodies, how difficult lawyers were about contracts when you were technically dead; but absolutely nobody here was dead.

Yet.

This thought cheered Silendris slightly. They might as well try out their new body, they supposed - and if it didn’t work out, this was probably as good place as any to get a new one.

They strolled up to Nyrrigos and attempted a curtesy which they fumbled and turned into a bow midway through. “Hello,” they said cheerfully; “how do we play?”
cave anserem
Image

Thain of The Mark
Points: 2 582 
Posts: 1399
Joined: Tue May 19, 2020 10:44 pm
Vilka, Giving up on Captaining a Merchant Ship

Sea-faring was definitely not for her, so maybe fighting would be. Mordor was promising so far. It was land-locked, and so she definitely wouldn't sink a ship there. Especially since Vilka planned to stay far, far away from the Sea of Nurnen.

Vilka couldn't resist a shudder as she passed through the gates into the Necromancer's Guild, though. The name itself was chilling enough.

I've gone insane, she thought as she approached Nyrrigos. Or I actually drowned in the Bay of Belfalas and this is my doom.

"I would like to enter the match, please," she said, impressed that her voice didn't waver.

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Nyrrigos

He had begun to wonder if his patron had distributed the invitations as he had promised. Nyrrigos and the others had been opened for several days before their first custom came to them. Both Mig and Korgrîn had threatened to leave multiple times now, but a glare and a promise to hunt them down had kept them in line. Travel in the Black Lands had been slow apparently. The short statutes orc was occupied with testing the weight of his pommel for the hundredth time when they walked up. They caught Nyrrigos by surprise, but he managed to cover it by doing a complicated flip of his broadsword that landed the land point down in the earth. His first fighter of the night was… unusual, to say the least. It took a very long moment for him to understand exactly who it was that stood before him. His patron had told him to expect this one at some point . Some point was right off the starting line apparently. He looked at them warily. Who knew what kind of tricks they had up their sleeves, they had a reputation for slightly odd behavior. “ You want to fight, eh?” his voice was much deeper than his stature would have suggested. “Right this way then. Follow me.”

He led them through the gate and as he turned to close the gate behind him, another competitor stepped forward out of the gloom and haze that surrounded them. This one he had no recollection of. She must have been new to the area, or he was not as well acquainted with the personages here as he liked to believe. She was a human though, and that was rare, at least it should be. He grunted in acknowledgement. “Welcome to the Necromancer's Guild. You want a match? You’re in luck then.” He didn’t bother with names, only the names of victors mattered here.

He picked up his sword and, with a flourish, sheathed it across his hip. “Right. So here are the rules. This is a fistfight til someone’s unconscious. Hands, feet, elbows, knees, you know the drill, or you will at any rate. And no biting or cheap stuff like that!” He spat and gave each of them a hard look. Neither of them looked like real fighters, both too skinny by half. Still, it was the first match and for the sake of the omens, he hoped it was a good one.

GM Update: fighters take up your positions and choose whether to attack or defend (bold at the bottom of your post)
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Thain of The Mark
Points: 2 582 
Posts: 1399
Joined: Tue May 19, 2020 10:44 pm
Vilka
foolhardy human


I really must be insane, Vilka thought to herself again as she followed the orc (Nyrrigos) into the fighting pit to meet her opponent. She nodded as he went over the rules, relieved that she wouldn't need an actual weapon since she... didn't really know how to use them, anyway, and grimaced when he specifically stated no biting. That would be disgusting anyway.

"Certainly," Vilka agreed, nodding to her opponent as the orc finished.

Vilka took step back, and surveyed her opponent for a moment. They were... odd. They had a strange fidgetiness and aura about them, and Vilka really wasn't sure what to make of the look in their eyes. She doubted she would be able to predict any actions, and so there was only one thing to do. Attack first.

She raised her hands, clenching them loosely into fists, and charged, hoping that she wouldn't make an entire fool of herself today.


Vilka attacks Silendris

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
Silendris, not biting

No biting? What was the point of fighting if not biting? Biting was a well established and excellent technique for WINNING, which was such an important aspect of fighting. “Fine, no biting,” Silendris muttered. At least the orc hadn’t mentioned eye gouging or crotch kicking or any other reasonable methods like that. They weren’t cheap at all. They were expensive: for the recipient.

Vilka was already charging at them. Excellent! Silendris ran towards them as well, making a high pitched “eeeee” noise, almost under their breath. They planned to run into Vilka and bear her down with the weight of their shoulder. Maybe they’d even bring their elbows into play.

Attack
cave anserem
Image

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Nyrrigos

Round 1

He watched as the two combatants collided with each other, each trying wildly to land the first punch. The human woman tried to strike, but her right hook didn’t quote land, her reach wasn’t quite what She expected it too be. Nyrrigos sighed. He’d seen that mistake several times, usually it cost the assailant the fight. There was a dark twist of luck in her favor though, as the other fighter wiffed as well and overextended themselves, they stumbled a step, leaving them completely open to another attack. A rather unspectacular opening round but there was still room for improvement.

Vilka @Taethowen (missed on a 3) you miss but your able to right yoursel. RP the miss from your perspective, how you recover yourself, and readying your next move.

Silendris @Sil Denafil (missed on a nat 1) you miss and overextend yourself, leaving you open to an attack. Vilka will have advantage against you in the next round. RP the miss, your attempt to recover, and readying your next move.

Quick note: as this is my first time doing this, we may change things up as we go along to see what works and what doesn't. On that note, when announcing your attack give me a brief description (sentence at most really) of what you want to attempt ie, punch them in the face roundhouse kick their torso, box their ears.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Thain of The Mark
Points: 2 582 
Posts: 1399
Joined: Tue May 19, 2020 10:44 pm
Vilka, Extremely Lucky

Vilka swore under her breath as she collided with her opponent, and yet neither one of them actually managed to land a hit. The momentum from her swing momentarily spun her off balance, but Vilka was able to plant a foot and steady herself before she turned back to face Silendris.

Vilka grinned when she saw that Silendris was still off-balance and struggling to find their footing again. She charged again and ducked low, hoping to catch the odd creature in the stomach with her shoulder and knock them to the ground.

Attack

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
Silendris had wiffed. What is wiffing, you may wonder? You may need to ask Nyrrigos’ narrator for a full explanation; but take it for the moment that Silendris had missed Vilka entirely and overstretched themselves, even stumbling for a moment. They pivoted hastily on a heel to see Vilka hurtling back towards them bullishly. “Yikes,” quoth Silendris, attempting to jump out of the way and hoping Vilka would crash into the wall instead.

defend
cave anserem
Image

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Nyrrigos

The human took advantage of her opponent’s temporary disorientation and went low, jamming her shoulder the other’s stomach (or what could be assumed to be a stomach). They (Sil) were able to recover just in the nick of time to prevent serious damage, but the human’s shoulder slammed into them and knocked the wind out of them. They stumbled back several steps, coughing and wheezing as they tried to quickly regain their breath before the next attack. The human, from the force of her blow, actually became air borne for half a heartbeat before crunching back into the red dirt and sand of the arena. Nyrrigos nodded, finally a hit!

Vilka @Taethowen (Hit on a 10, doing 3 damage to Sil) – A hit, a fine hit! You managed to slam your opponent in the stomach before they could fully recover and landed the first blow of the match. You must feel pretty good about yourself now, eh? Don’t let overconfidence cloud your judgement now. Get ready for the next round. What will you do?

Silendris @Sil Denafil (no attack) – It could have been worse. You managed to right yourself just enough to absorb most of the blow. You were, however, knocked off your feet. Get up and get ready to go again, you’re still in this fight. Are you going to let this human beat you down? Get ready for the next round. What will you do?

Round 2
Vilka – 25 HP
Sil – 22 HP
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
Zoinks. The human woman was heavier than she looked. Silendris decided not to mention this out loud, as this would no doubt only enrage Vilka and add more power to her elbow (human women could be notoriously put out if their weight was mentioned too much. Why, Silendris had no idea; but then Silendris spent a lot of time with Uruk hai and cave trolls who were only too delighted when they gained another few pounds). Instead, Silendris picked themselves up from the floor, wincing slightly and shaking some sand out of their sleeves. They bounced over to Vilkas and struck out with a kick to the woman’s knee.

Attack
cave anserem
Image

Thain of The Mark
Points: 2 582 
Posts: 1399
Joined: Tue May 19, 2020 10:44 pm
Vilka

She stepped back to let Silendris get to her feet--this fight seemed awfully honorable for Mordor, but she had agreed to follow Nyrrigos' rules, so she would deal with it--and scowled as her opponent immediately aimed a kick for her knee.

Vilka twisted to one side, bending over to try and hook her elbow under Silendris' knee and push her weight into their hips to bring them crashing to the ground once more.

Attack

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Nyrrigos

The fight was heating up at last, after a few tentative rounds feeling out the other's defenses the strategies were beginning to form. Sil, for their part bounced, yes bounced (Nyrrigos was admittedly confused by that but who was he to judge, he once ate a spider heart in the heart of battle), over to Vilka and disoriented the human enough to aim a savage kick to her knee. Vilka tried to dodge the attack and launch a clever countermove but she never got the chance. The strike landed hard, Nyrrigos could hear something pop and saw something bend that shouldn't have bent. Her knee buckled and the move she intended never took place. She wobbled for a moment then slammed face first into the dust. When She looked back up, Nyrrigos saw the first real blood of the match. He also saw the shifting sands if the arena move to visibly toward the blood she left behind and swallow it up. This place was chosen by accident, Nyrrigos noted. Necromancer's Guild indeed.

Round 3
Vilka @Taethowen (missed with a 9) – You took damage finally, a blow to the kneecap is bad though, you might be a bit hobbled in the next few rounds, not to mention the fact that the sand has now tasted your blood. What do you do next?

Sil @Sil Denafil (hits with an 18, doing 4 damage to Vilka) – You managed to disorient (or just weird out) your opponent and your attack succeeded. Not only did you manage to score a hit, you drew first blood. The sands are very appreciative. Will you press the attack or move to regroup?

Sil -- 22 HP
Vilka-- 21 HP
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
Silendris grinned toothily as their kick made contact, dropping Vilka to the ground. The pale sands of the arena drank the human woman’s blood with an almost sentient voraciousness. They wanted feeding, did they?

Silendris moved quickly to press their advantage. “Can we interest you,” they panted as they danced closer, “in buying” - they feinted briefly at Vilka’s left ear - “a unique and stylish one piece item of clothing?” They swung hard at Vilka’s midriff.

attack
cave anserem
Image

Black Númenórean
Points: 2 938 
Posts: 2854
Joined: Sat May 16, 2020 9:29 pm
Mig the Bookie

A small, pale green goblin stomped through the gate and down toward his "office" at the back of the Guild, which consisted of one small table in a back corner lit by a weak lantern. From there, he would have a decent view of the fights and could survey the patrons as they drank and cursed and cheered. A worn wooden abacus, a pot of ink, and a greasy buzzard feather sat in wait on his table. He carried a thick book under one arm and a hefty bag of coin of all kinds hung at his waist.

Mig slammed his book onto the table. He was in a foul mood. His dingus of a brother had run off to start yet another business (something about murdering hornets), and Mig wasn't going to be the one to bail him out this time when it failed, you could count on that. Nope. Fleeg would have to find other investors.

He flipped open the cover of the book and picked up his quill, licking the nib thoughtfully before dipping it into the ink and scribbling the date at the top of a new day's ledger. He leaned his neck forward and squinted at the fighting ring; the dim light in here never did his nearsightedness any favors. Two scrawny beings were going at it, flopping about on the sand and kicking at each other. He shook his head and sighed. It might be a slow night. Privately, he began to root for the one who was making a sale mid-fight. The little liver-spotted goblin always favored the enterprising ones.
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

Thain of The Mark
Points: 2 582 
Posts: 1399
Joined: Tue May 19, 2020 10:44 pm
Vilka, In Pain

The pain that radiated through her knee wiped all thought from Vilka's mind, and she couldn't catch herself before she fell. There was something sharp hidden in the sand, and her face was sticky when she managed to push herself up. She swore as she saw a dark, wet patch on the ground. Gooseflesh prickled up her arms and over the back of her neck as the sand shifted, and the bloodstain vanishing in mere seconds.

They weren't kidding about the Necromancer's guild, were they?

Before she could even stand, though, Silendris moved in. As they moved around her--Vilka was still blinking sand and blood from her eyes and couldn't quite see--Sil said something about buying a piece of clothing, but Vilka was baffled as to what exactly they were trying to sell. She already had a shirt.

Desperate, Vilka threw herself backward, back down to the stand, and rolled away.

Defend

OOC @Mama's Murder Muffin - I couldn't quite make out from your post if the blood was from Vilka's knee (seems unlikely from a kick) or from her face since you said "when she looked back up, Nyrrigos saw the first real blood of the match" so I took some creative liberty.

Black Númenórean
Points: 2 528 
Posts: 1866
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 3:21 am
Image
Spectating, Box 5

Above the stone-walled fighting pit were arrayed the seating boxes for those who cared to spend their coin on comfort, and a seat away from the sprays of various bodily fluids that frequently issued from the combatants. A sturdy staircase on the back wall led up to this seating area, overlooking the pit and with a clear view of the bar beyond. In one of these boxes- box five, to be precise- sat Sombelenë. If ever a servant of Darkness looked out of place here, it was Sombelenë. For one thing, she was very clean, this Avar- probably cleaner than any other individual in the Black Land ever bothered to be; clean, and very pale, as an umber moon. Once upon a time, her skin had been tanned from the out-of-doors, but it had been many long years since such pursuits had occupied Sombelenë. She was old. Very old, quite old enough that her earliest memories stood behind a kind of haze, which she was not terribly interested in penetrating- that was the past, and far enough in the past so as to be of little concern.

In addition to her cleanliness, Sombelenë’s choice of garments was hardly appropriate to the setting. She was wrapped in a gown of latticed gold, which clung like a second skin to her lean torso and arms and, just as the armseyes were cut freely enough to allow a full range of motion to her arms, the skirt flared just enough at the hips to allow her a full stride beneath it. This fell straight down to the ground, just disguising the shape of the legs beneath it. The gown’s collar extended above her clavicle to cling to the column of her neck, and her sharply pointed ears were visible below the intricate mass of shining-gold braids that hung from her head. Her beauty was a dream, a song; more mystic than woman, but the dark glittered in her feline yellow eyes.

Few would catch a glimpse of that beauty tonight, however; high up in the seating box, lit only by the light of candles stuck up around its edges and whatever illumination bled up from below, and seated just far enough back from the edge to be out of constant view, Sombelenë was visible to those below only when she wanted to be- or when someone was trying particularly hard to get a look in. This box was already her habitual abode when she came to observe the matches; base entertainment in the eyes of some, but she did love a bit of blood sport. The Avar had caused several deep, comfortable chairs to be stationed in this box, replacing the stiff, hard-backed things that Nyrrigos has thrown in when he opened the Guild, and a small sidetable sat beside Sombelenë’s own chair, while a low, wide table occupied the center of the box. Tonight- or at least for now- she was alone, accompanied only by a bottle of deep, dark-gold mead, and a silver goblet, half full of the pungent liquid. Mozran had eagerly surrendered his best to her; Sombelenë appreciated his talents, and was generous with her appreciation. Coin that meant little to her allowed her to acquire all manner of more interesting things.

Sombelenë sipped her mead, allowing the honey-wine to roll about her mouth, coating her tongue with its sharp-sweet viscosity, heathery herbal notes permeating her sinuses. She watched the goings-on below, seeing Nyrrigos arranging a bout between two newcomers (Silendris and Vilka). Neither of them looked like anything special, but still- the surprises were always the best, and one never knew. No biting, what an asinine rule. Sombelenë watched Silendris closely- there was something familiar about this one. Both combatants dove into the fight with enthusiasm, and subsequent failure, followed by an exchange of inelegant blows, and the first blood of the night- quickly swallowed up by the innocent sands. “Dear oh dear,” Sombelenë murmured to herself, taking another sip of mead. Perhaps this might be an amusing fight after all.
Image
Evil is a lifestyle | she/her

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Nyrrigos

This bout was finally getting good. Nyrrigos stopped watching with half interest and focused fully in the fight, giving it his undivided attention. The human rolled away from her assailant, creating a good bubble between them but as she was standing back up, her foot caught on a loose stone. She didn't overbalance, but her foot slid just enough to distract her. Between that and Sil’s mid bout sales pitch, Vilka‘s guard dropped just a fraction. She fell for Sil's feint to the left, turning too much and exposing her midsection to Sil's attack. The blow landed hard and Vilka again stumbled back, doubled over in pain as Sil stood above her.

Round 4
Vilka @Taethowen (no attack) - If you had not been so distracted by your surroundings no doubt you would not have fallen for such a simple feint, unfortunately though another hard blow has landed and doubled you over in pain. How to you recover? How do you respond? Does a stylish one-piece sound appealing to you?

Sil @Sil Denafil (hit with a 13 on disadvantage, doing 4 damage to Vilka) – You are a very distracting individual and it has paid dividends in this fight. Your blow lands, doing significant damage to your opponent and you might also get a sale afterwards! Your opponent is looking hurt. How do you keep going? What new ways can you think of to distract her?

Sil – 22 HP
Vilka – 17 HP
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Thain of The Mark
Points: 2 582 
Posts: 1399
Joined: Tue May 19, 2020 10:44 pm
Vilka, Foundering but Determined

The tears of pain from Sil's blow to her torso at least finished washing the last of the sand out of Vilka's eyes. She grimaced, and couldn't quite contain a moan as she clutched one arm to her abdomen.

Vilka gathered her resolve, but didn't push herself back up to standing. This time, she pushed away from the sand as she unwrapped her arm from her torso, and launched straight into Silendris' legs, hoping to knock them to the sand as well.

Attack

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
Silendris

Vilka didn’t seem interested in making a purchase at this time, as she folded up around the gut-punch. It was just as well as Silendris didn’t have any stock anyway. Fleetingly, they contemplated that they could have worn all the layers they owned to provide some primitive padding, but that would probably only have a) slowed them down and b) allowed Vilka to bat Silendris around like a comical, fashionable ball.

Vilka was staying down but hurled herself at Silendris’ own knees. Silendris allowed her to draw near before throwing themselves bodily at Vilka - elbow first, intending to drive that pointy nub into Vilka’s back.

attack
cave anserem
Image

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Nyrrigos

Right before the human dove at Sil's legs, Nyrrigos caught sight of a shadow moving up near the box seats, Box 5 to be precise. That meant she was here. A cold feeling washed over the orc for a moment. He knew she would show up eventually. He had been instructed to keep Box 5 empty for her whenever she deigned to appear amongst the riffraff. Had all been done to her exacting specifications? The orc could only hope, otherwise there would be hell to pay. He forced himself back to the fight. The human had just dove for Sil's legs but she was too slow, a product of her slowly sapling strength no doubt. It was a bold move, but a costly one. Sil managed to dodge nimbly aside at the very last moment and launched a counterattack. They slammed an elbow square into the human's back. The moment the human had was suddenly redirected downward. She sputtered, slipping on the sand as she tried to regain her footing. Once again, she went sprawling into the dirt. And once again, the dirt seemed to shift and move towards her as she came up with more blood on her face from the impact.

Round 5
Vilka @Taethowen (missed on an 8) – it was a bold strategy and it almost paid off but you were half a moment too slow. You’ve been knocked down into the sands again and suffered a broken nose as a result. The blood is attracting the sands to you now. Another hit that lands you there could result in extra damage .

Sil @Sil Denafil (hit on a 10, doing 2 damage to Vilka) – you move swiftly, barely dodging in time to land a blow even if it was only glancing. Your odd bounding techniques are paying off. However, the sands are awake now and even though you haven’t bled, they could come for you too.

Sil – 22 HP
Vilka – 15 HP

GM Note: as an extra hazard (to make sure bouts don’t last forever) the monstrous sands of the arena have been awoken. They will make footing difficult to manage as they swirl about hungrily, as a result, I will make an extra role at the end of the round to see if you can maintain footing. Any fall or slip will cause another d4 of damage to be dealt.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Thain of The Mark
Points: 2 582 
Posts: 1399
Joined: Tue May 19, 2020 10:44 pm
Vilka, Looking a Bit of a Mess

Pain shot through her face as Vilka felt her nose crack and pop, yanking her face away from the ground as quickly as she could. She swore again as she saw the sands move, realizing she was very, very out of her depth.

Vilka moved as quickly as she could, pushing herself up to standing as she shook the sand from her face and ignored the blood dripping from her nose. She twisted back to face Silendris, and swung the opposite fist at their face, hoping to use the momentum of their action to drive the blow harder.

"Trying to sell clothes to the person you're nearly killing is a terrible sales tactic," Vilka growled. "How are you going to collect the money?"

Attack

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
Silendris’ elbow struck gold. Only metaphorically. Literally, it had only stricken flesh. But bone beneath that flesh; hard, unyielding bone which sent a jolt up Silendris’ arm but also satisfactorily resulted in Vilka sinking to the hungry floor again. The sands were making a faint roaring sound, like the sea. Silendris shuddered as the scouring grains swept towards them both.

Blood was the danger here, they could see that; with every drop that fell from Vilka’s broken nose the earth would grow hungrier. The quickest way to settle this would be to move in quick with a throttling grip, choking the human woman out without shedding more of her red juice. Even as Vilka swung at them, Silendris tried to duck inside her punch to grasp her by the neck.

Vilka asked an eminently reasonable question.

“We guess your estate could settle that,” considered Silendris, seriously. “It would honestly make a terrific burial outfit. But we don’t think this is a match to the death anyway, right? We can always collect the correct amount of coin from your unconscious body if you care to tell us where you keep your purse.”

They grinned disarmingly.

Attack
cave anserem
Image

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Nyrrigos

Now that the sands had awoken, Nyrrigos did not see the battle lasting much longer. Each opponent was growing more desperate, more willing to resort to less than honorable tactics. Nyrrigos, of course, was in favor of whatever tactics they chose to use. It was his patron that had decided on the no biting rule. If Nyrrigos had had his way, but would be encouraged. But, money talks apparently. Within the arena, the human was getting reckless in her desperation to even the odds against Sil. She took a swing right at their head, putting all of her weight behind the strike. It very nearly struck gold, or flesh at least. Another quick dodge from Sil though and instead of flesh and bone, the woman's fist connected with ragged cloth and hair. In the moment of confusion, Sil weaseled their way inside the woman's defenses and soon had their hands wrapped around her throat. The fight would have been over there had not the so an managed, after nearly have g the life choked out of her, to break Sil's iron grasp. She slipped, went boneless, and crashed to the ground. Before the sands could be on her though, she managed to scramble to her feet and assume a defensive position. She was not done yet, but she was bruised, beaten, and bloodied. How much longer could she last?

Round 6
Vilka @Taethowen (missed on a 9; managed to stay balanced with a 10) – as good as the strike to Sil's face should have been, fate intervened and took it away from you. Their stranglehold on you nearly cost you everything but you managed to just barely escape it. Still, that damage will not be going away any time soon and you’re having trouble breathing as a result. No penalty yet, but another grapple like that you could be facing disadvantage on your strikes. Be careful, but don’t be too careful.

Sil @Eyeball (hit on an 18, dealing 4 damage to Vilka; managed to stay balanced with a 19) – you almost had her but she slipped away! Still, you are in control of this fight and when she slipped away from you your feet remained rock steady. The sands don’t seem to be interested in you yet, but don’t think that can’t change in an instant.

Sil – 22 HP
Vilka – 11 HP
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
Silendris

Vilka was making no reply. This was probably because Silendris’ fingers were around her neck, inexorably tightening.

The sands shifting beneath their feet saved her. Silendris was forced to let go to regain their balance, even as Vilka sought to break their grip - and toppled to the ground. The human woman leapt back to her feet with alacrity - and no wonder, when the malevolent arena itself threatened to suck them both in. What the heck was this stuff made up of? Ground up cave trolls possessed by evil spirits? As plausible as anything else going on in here, for sure.

“If you can’t afford it,” Silendris continued, panting slightly, “we could perhaps work out some sort of retail option?”

They staggered over and attempted to knee Vilka in the belly.

Attack
cave anserem
Image

Thain of The Mark
Points: 2 582 
Posts: 1399
Joined: Tue May 19, 2020 10:44 pm
"It's not really a matter of can't afford," Vilka rasped through her bruised throat, fighting both against the sands and trying to dodge Silendris. "I have no coin at all. Not even sure where my next meal's coming from, to be honest."

Silendris' knee swung up, and Vilka twisted to the side and pushed off the ground--attempted to, anyway--once more in hope of driving her full weight into Silendris and taking her to the ground.

Attack

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Nyrrigos

Choking and gasping for air, the human assumed a defensive stance. She looked haggard and worn. Nyrrigos shook his head. This fight wasn’t going to last much longer if she couldn’t score a hit soon. Nyrrigos was getting antsy. This was a bloody fight, but it seemed like an outmatched fight. Whoever the human was, she was not the most skilled fighter, at least not against someone as strange and inscrutable as Sil. Sil had her on the ropes, despite the lack of actual ropes. Perhaps he should purchase some cursed ropes to add another hazard to the arena. He mused and leaned on the stone barrier to watch the next round.

Sil was moving, well staggering, in a drunk enough manner that even Nyrrigos had trouble following exactly where they were moving to. The human didn’t either and as a result suffered a knee to the gut again. Nyrrigos assumed the human would fall over again but she grabbed the knee that was jammed into her stomach and used the momentum of Sil’s staggering to swing her around and throw them into the sands. She overbalanced though, slipping on a bit of sand as it shifted underneath her and they both went flying into the ground, Sil taking the brunt of the damage as the human landed hard on top of them.

Round 7
Vilka @Taethowen (hit on a nat 20, doing 7 total damage to Sil; did not maintain balance with a 7 and took 1 damage) – the fates have seen it fit that you are able to continue in your fight, finally landing a blow to your enemy after going a while without it. You threw them to the ground but couldn’t keep balance yourself and tumbled with them. You need to get up quickly before the sands suck the last bit of strength you have.

Sil @Silhouette (hit on a 16, doing 2 damage to Vilka; did not maintain balance with a 3 and took 1 damage) – the staggering might have not worked in your favor this round, despite landing a blow with your knee again, you were got tangled up and fell hard into the sands, who seem to love the taste of your current body. Get up quickly or they will make a meal out of you.

Sil – 14 HP
Vilka – 8 HP
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Thain of The Mark
Points: 2 582 
Posts: 1399
Joined: Tue May 19, 2020 10:44 pm
Vilka should have felt more pain as Sil's knee landed in her stomach, but by now she was sure she was going into shock or running on pure adrenaline. Somehow, she managed to throw Sil to the ground, along with herself, wincing at the crack and creak of bone and flesh in their collision.

As the sands continued to churn and shift, desperation surged through her. Vilka pushed herself up, but not to standing. She scrambled to straddle Silendris, hoping to pin their arms down with her knees, reaching to wrap one hand around their throat and pulling her other hand back to throw a punch aimed directly at the creature's face.

Attack

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
Silendris’ knee drove into Vilka’s stomach. They felt the air whoosh out of the human woman, but her strong arms gripped their thighs and flipped them nimbly onto the floor. Silendris choked on sand, the impact juddering through their bones even as they scrabbled hastily to get to their feet. Too late, Vilka had leapt astride them. A rather silly grin crept across Silendris’ face even as Vilka snaked a hand around their throat, and they smashed their forehead up aiming for Vilka’s jaw. “Other payment could be arranged,” they gasped with the last of their breath.

Attack
cave anserem
Image

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Nyrrigos

They both went sprawling into the dirt, a tangle of arms, legs, and torsos. Dust billowed up and temporarily obscured the fighting pit from Nyrrigos’ eyes. He heard still more sales pitches from Sil, clearly very eager to make a sale and confident in their ability to make one whilst beating someone to a pulp. The dust settled and they were both still on the ground (not a very wise choice, but definitely a choice). The human woman had Sil by the throat a d was about to deliver a massive punch to their face when said face slammed hard into the woman’s jaw. There was a great spray of red mist and the sands quite literally vibrated with gluttony as the blood fell to the earth. The human’s face was a mask of red. The sands, this awakened and teased for so long for a meal, rocketed toward than two combatants, leaving subtly behind in favor of a much more direct approach. The woman’s move was nearly her undoing as the sands crawled up her legs like a horde of ants and began to rip into her flesh. Sil, too, did not escape the hunger of the sands, their arms were left with deep gashes were the sands and dug in and reveled. If the two brawlers did not get up and put some leather and iron between them and the sands they'd be done for.

Round 8
Vilka @Taethowen (hit on an 18, doing 1 damage to Sil; as you were laying down and did not attempt to get up you automatically failed your balance roll, taking 4 damage) – while you managed to do some damage again the price was heavy. You disregarded the hunger of the sands and it took advantage of that error. You’re a broken and shattered mess of blood and contusions, your legs are wobbly and you’re horribly unbalanced. Do you stand a chance? Can you stand at all?

Sil @Silhouette (hit on a 14, doing 3 damage to Vilka; as you were laying down and did not attempt to get up you automatically failed your balance roll as well, taking 3 damage) – you were saved by Naokis' large forehead, having just enough height and momentum to slam in to Vilka's lower jaw. The sands got you too, but Vilka being on top of you helped shield you somewhat. You aren’t in great shape either after these last two rounds but at least you're doing better than your adversary. Can you end it this round, or will you have the tables turned in you?

Sil – 10 HP
Vilka – 1 HP
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
Silendris

“Shire-bastioned feather-breathing duck-doodles!” yelped Silendris, scrambling to their feet and doing an awkward little dance in an attempt to shake the sand out of their pockets - that greedy sand, weighing them down and scouring their nice new flesh in bloody streaks. Silendris normally deeply (ha, ha) appreciated a good pocket, but now they needed emptying and fast. They flipped them inside out as fast as they were able and skipped backwards. That would teach them to roll around on the floor for too long.

But if the sand was so dangerous, perhaps they could make use of it - whilst staying out of Vilka’s reach. Though the human woman seemed to be quite battered, thanks to Naokis’ fivehead (it’s like a forehead, but MORE), Silendris didn’t underestimate her ability to do some final damage. Instead of closing, Silendris side-swept with their foot, kicking a great spray of the lethal sand directly at Vilka’s face.

Attaaaaaack
cave anserem
Image

Thain of The Mark
Points: 2 582 
Posts: 1399
Joined: Tue May 19, 2020 10:44 pm
Vilka's vision blacked out for a moment as Sil's face slammed into hers, despite her grip on the other's throat. Pain slammed through her head, nose already broken before this hit, so much so that she barely noticed the sting as the sand crawled up her legs and began to bite.

Silendris pushed her off them, but Vilka didn't even see the kick of sand as she struggled to gain her feet, bringing both hands to her face to try and wipe the blood away, shaking the droplets onto the sand as dropped her hands away.

If the sand hit, she couldn't feel it beyond all the other pain.

If she was going down, though, Vilka would go down fighting. With one last gathering of her strength, she smiled--it looked quite gruesome on her battered, bloody face--and once more launched herself at Sil, fist swinging for their throat.

Attack

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Nyrrigos

The first combat in the Necromancer's was officially in the books. Sil was smart and stayed just out of reach of the human woman's final, desperate barrage of haymakers. The attacks were clumsy, but even on her last legs, the human could still inflict some damage. Sil nimbly bounced aside, ducking and weaving in a fashion that, though potentially unnecessary, added a bit of flair from shambler. The small crowd seemed delighted, tasting blood in the air as the end if the match loomed heavy and sanguine. Sil, finally, put the poor human woman out of her misery. She never saw it coming, blood and sweat caked over her eyes to the point that she was swinging blindly. Sil side swiped the sand with a lazy looking but precise kick, sending a gout of red particulars through the air. Midflight, the grains of sands came to life and directed themselves towards the woman's face. They landed in her eyes and her mouth. She screamed as the sands began to dig into her, burrowing greedily into het soft flesh. Her screams reached a desperate, shrill pitch as the sand tore its way through her. A red, bubbly froth poured out of her mouth as the screams suddenly ended in a gurgle. The now lifeless husk toppled to the ground, collapsing like a sack of potatoes. All the sands of the arena rushed toward the body, a feeding frenzy began. The corpse almost gained a but if life as the sand jostled and ripped and tore her apart. Nyrrigos watched in silence, while the rest of the patrons hooted and hollered their savage approval. This was what they had come to see. Blood. That’s all they cared about here. The sands continued their hungry work, swirling and dancing and diving. Every one of the patrons, from Nyrrigos to the woman in Box 5 could hear the eerie screams and moans that came from the sands, the last sounds of their hapless victims trapped forever. Finally, the sands receded, leaving nothing but a skull, picked clean of all but the bone.

Nyrrigos entered and picked up the skull, examining it with detached interest. “Shame,” he said at length, “never did get her name.” With a shrug, the orc walked over to Sil and lifted their right arm in triumph. A deep, loud voice echoed from within him. “Behold! Your first champion!”

The crowd roared in delight. Nyrrigos leaned closer so as to be heard. “Mozran will give you a few pints of whatever beer you want and, when you’ve had your fill, to find Mig and he'll get you your cut of the profits, a standard 25 percent. Well done.”

~~~~~

The Man in Black

He hadn’t seen the entire fight, only catching the last of the bout as he snuck into Box 5 and took the seat next to the Avar. As was his custom when moving about unseen and unnoticed, the Man in Black wore a deep cloak that hid his face from all but the keenest eyes. His shiny eyes the only things visible. A deep, sonorous chuckle escaped his lips as the woman fell and was devoured by the sands.

“Tell me,” he said once the roar of the crowd below them died away. “What did you think? Did it all meet with your approval?”

Round 9
Vilka @Taethowen (miss on an 8) – your wild attacks all miss, but in the end none of that mattered. While no one here knew your name, your skull will adorn the arena walls and everyone will remember how it got there.

Sil @Silhouette (hit in a 14, doing 1 damage) – well done you! All you needed was the tiniest bit of effort to go ish off your opponent and that’s what you did. Revel in your victory, drink your beer, and collect your winnings. You are now a Level 1 fighter! I’ll be making an icon denoting your new rank. What does this rank entail? Enter another bout and find out.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
“What in the eighteenth gate of Udûn is that?!” shrieked Silendris. Far from being simply blinded by the spray of sand, the vicious grains had burrowed deep into Vilka’s face as though they were tiny flesh-eating beetles. Silendris resisted the urge to rub their eyes and bleeding knuckles. Perhaps this was simply all a very strong hallucination, and Vilka’s face was not rapidly becoming a shredded mess tattering away over a bleak skull. Gurgling noises emitted from the pit of sand. Silendris’ lips curled over their teeth. So, that was what happened to losers. They would’ve come into this bout considerably more soberly had they realised this. The orc adjudicator had wandered down and was handling the skull. Necromancer’s Guild, indeed!

“Yes, we’d love a beer,” they said faintly, coughing up some of the dreadful sand, wet-red and glassy, even as Nyrrigos raised their arm into the air. “Or maybe anything stronger, if there’s that? What do we get for winning, anyway?”
cave anserem
Image

Black Númenórean
Points: 2 528 
Posts: 1866
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 3:21 am
Image
Spectating, Box 5

Sombelenë’s eyes gleamed in the candle-light as she leaned forward, the pointed ends of her finger-nails digging into the wood of the railing as her fingers curled around it. Although the combat had ben mildly interesting at best, the conclusion was simply stunning. The sands of the arena, which had previously swallowed spilled blood, now seized their opportunity to burrow into every soft and porous inch of her face, forcing its way inside and ripping to shreds every iota of consciousness and flesh, leaving only a mangled carcass behind. The meatsack that had been Vilka thudded to the ground and was swiftly consumed by the ravenous sands. Thoroughly satisfied, the Avar sat back in her chair and turned to look at the man in black who had slipped into her box during the final moments of the bout. The rabid screams from the crowd began to die, and his voice came to life. She laughed, a musical sound among the brutish cacophony, and nodded.

“Oh, yes, Nixë. Quite delightful. I shall be very interested to observe bouts with more… adept combatants, once they surrender to the charms of the place.” From beneath the table beside her, Sombelenë produced a second goblet as she spoke, and into it poured a healthy measure of the rich wine, before handing it to her companion. She took a deep sip from her own before continuing. “And I take it all the arrangements are to your satisfaction? Nyrrigos does seem well suited to his post.”



Image
Spectating

Below at the entrance to the Necromancer’s Guild, Swiltang entered, just as the roars were coming to their crescendo. Clearly, something of significance was happening in the sunken fighting pit, and the lean, twisted orc hoped that it involved a great deal of blood and pain. He was in a foul mood. It was as yet uncertain whether this new place of recreational violence would offer him any opportunity for physical release of such tempers (squashing ants was hardly a satisfying pastime), or whether it would be somewhere he could vent his spleen by watching the maceration of others, the more violent the better. The crowd shifted to let him pass as he made his way toward the bar- whether they knew who the swordmaster was or were simply buffeted aside by his fell presence Swiltang neither knew nor cared. Mozran certainly knew who he was, and gave an obsequious duck of the head as Swiltang approached. “Give me a bottle of something halfway decent,” he demanded, slapping some coins onto the counter. Mozran took in their value at a glance. “Oh yes sir for this I can offer-“ Swiltang held up a hand. “I don’t care.” A bottle appeared before him with marvelous speed, and, seizing it by the neck, he turned and began to stalk towards the stairs that led to the viewing boxes above the pit. “Ah, sir, I should tell you-“

Mozran’s cry was lost in the noise of the crowd as Swiltang delved into it, though he stood head and sometimes shoulders above many of them. The energy had multiplied, and the noise, and he paused on the bottom step of the staircase to watch the end of the bout: the woman had received a handful of sand to the face, which seemed to be devouring her from the inside. Swiltang’s twisted lip curled further up, exposing more of his pointed teeth. An interesting twist, that. The perks and perils of setting up a fighting pit on this particular patch of ground. Resuming his course, Swiltang continued up the stairs with the slightly uneven gait that always dogged his steps. He had nearly reached the top when a faint scent curled about his nostrils. Anise. Swiltang swore vociferously under his breath, but it was too late to turn back now- he might as well endure whatever the witch’s company would bring. Mounting the final few stairs, Swiltang strode across the first, substandard, viewing spaces, to Box 5. As he had known she would, Sombelenë sat in the prime seat. But to his surprise, there was someone else there with her, a figured cloaked in black. “Good evening, Sombelenë,” he said thinly as he entered the box from behind the man in black, surveying the furnishings with a gimlet eye. “I see you’ve taken it upon yourself to redecorate.”
Image
Evil is a lifestyle | she/her

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Image
Mozran

The first victor sidled up to the bar and Mozran put away the glass he had been absent mindedly cleaning and leaned over the counter. He smiled, a single tusk-like tooth appearing over his lip. “Well done that,” he nodded to the pit where Nyrrigos were again standing guard with his blade out. “Guess he told ya that you’re first drink is on the ‘ouse and the rest is half priced? What’ll you have?” With a flourish, the wiry orc produced three large bottles from beneath the bar. “This one here is the doppelbock, a personal favorite of mine. It’s rich and full bodied, I used nearly a pound of malt for that bottle alone. You could practically chew it it’s so thick. Aye, but it’s good, with chocolate and hazelnut notes and a bare hint of bitterness.” Mozran uncorked the bottle and took a long sniff of the heavy lager and sighed contentedly. “Next up we have a barleywine. Now this one’s a bit different. I brewed this beer the same way them elves up north make their wine, use the same kind a yeast. Lots of malt, lots of malt but it gives the beer a nice sweet taste and silky mouthfeel.” He uncorked it and smiled as he inhaled. “Finally, I got us a black GPA (Gondor Pale Ale), but don’t get fooled by the name. It ain’t from the White City. I overloaded it with hops to make it nice and bitter, a right donkey kick to the ass, but this GPA uses a lot more of the darker malts, giving it that midnight color and a beautiful roasted, coffee like aftertaste. So, what’ll it be?” Mozran beamed with pride. Most of the night he hadn’t been able to wax lyrical about his beers, most of the patrons just wanted “whatever’s good” and he wanted to murder them for being such plebians. Sil though, he had an inkling she had a finer palate this the rest of these miscreants.

"Oh right," he said suddenly remembering something else he needed to give to Sil beside their victory drink. He slapped an enameled clasped on the bar's counter top. "Nearly forgot, this is yours, to mark your victories in the pit."

Image

He then caught sight of an orc he never expected to be here. Was that…? Yes. Yes, it was! Swiltang himself had chosen to grace the establishment with his presence. Morzan, for the first time in a long time, found himself at a loss for words. When the sword master demanded “something half-way decent” Mozran picked out a bottle of wee heavy, perfect for the ancient warrior. He was about to go into the details of the beer Swiltang simply grabbed the bottle and said he didn’t care. Crestfallen, Mozran sighed and rolled his eyes. By happenstance he realized the orc was headed to Box 5, and he knew he was in Box 5. He tried to warn the orc, but his voice was drowned out by the crowd. He shrugged and went back to his work at the bar.
Image
The Man in Black

He smiled a wide, toothy grin, though none of it could be seen from the deep within the folds of his hooded cloak. “I’m glad to hear that, Lady Sombelenë. The first match was a bit lacking, but you can’t argue with that finale! That’s the sand I told you about before, the cannibal sands I stumbled on deep in Far Harad. Nasty stuff. But infinitely entertaining if you can find a use for it.” He accepted the goblet graciously; he never rejected a drink given to him by the Avar. He took a deep swallow of the honey wine. The mead a sweet and cool, just what he needed.

“Nyrrigos is perfectly suited for it, though I know how much he would itch to be in the arena himself. Still, he’s an excellent master of ceremony.”

He settled in, taking in the air of anise that followed the Avar like a natural perfume. Sil was at the bar getting her victory drink and it was only a matter of time before another challenger stepped up. Hopefully they would be more adept than the woman the sands had eaten. He craved a vicious and violent bout the way a dying man craved a cup of water.

A melodic and sonorous voice broke the silence behind them. Without turning, the Man in Black knew exactly who that lyrical voice belonged to. His eyes glinted with the recognition. “Swiltang,” he said with exaggerated luxury, “I didn’t think you’d be joining us so early. I am very glad you made it though. I’m sure a potential recruit will pop up eventually, the night is young. Take up a seat, there’s room for plenty.” The voice belied his confidence, the Man in Black suddenly felt like the odd man out in a room suddenly thick with carnal tension and explosive violence. A grand opening indeed.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
“Doppelbock,” said Silendris tersely, slumping into the stool with an unconcealed wince. Their head was throbbing where they had slammed it into Vilka’s jaw, and they shifted uncomfortably. The grating sand had somehow found its way into the seat of their pants and was incredibly bothersome, although at least it was not attempting to scour its way through Silendris’ stolen flesh with the single-minded hunger of boring termites. The stuff was like ground up diamond. Certainly not the soft, sifted beach variety.

“No, actually,” they mumbled, massaging their jaw and leaving red droplets on the bar, “Nyrrigos - is that his name? didn’t tell us anything, actually. Is that our payment? Half price drinks and this bit of enamel?” They stared forlornly at their prize badge as the toothy orc slid their drink over to them. Silendris picked it up and began slurping hungrily, barely tasting the aromatic flavours the barkeep had been proclaiming; they simply needed to refuel.
cave anserem
Image

Black Númenórean
Points: 2 528 
Posts: 1866
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 3:21 am
Image Image
Spectating, Box 5

“Can they really be called cannibal sands if they are eating things other than sand though?” Sombelenë mused pedantically, running one fingertip around the rim of her goblet. But further speculations on either the sands of the nature of Nyrrigos were cut short by the approach of Swiltang. She had sensed his coming a moment before the top of his black mane had appeared at the top of the stairs, and turned her her gaze upon him. She said nothing as the towering orc approached, allowing the Man in Black to extend his falsely confident greetings, offering the swordmaster a seat. Her eyes flicked back to him briefly in a look which, despite the vulpine smile which curled her lips said, to one who knew how to decipher her looks: fool. “Yes, Swiltang, I have,” she replied with an airiness to oppose his growl, “I find I always enjoy this sort of sport more from a position of comfort. Such a pointless pastime, enduring spartan accommodation when luxury is available.” For his part, Swiltang ignored the greeting of the Man in Black, though he knew now who was beneath the hood. As the witch spoke, he strode to her side, inserting himself between the pair of them, and retrieved a goblet from the stash beneath her table. Too, he took up the bottle of finest mead she had acquired and filled the goblet- quite to the brim, far more than a polite measure.

Swiltang turned and passed close behind the man in his chair, moving toward a third, which stood directly across from the Avar. When Sombelenë had finished her recitation, Swiltang turned his attention on the Man in Black. “If this operation of yours produces anything of quality, I shall be astounded, F- ah, or should I say, Nixë.” The orc spat this last word, as though the Quenyan shape of it were bitter in his mouth, and took a deep draft of the mead. Sombelenë’s smile curled higher. Swiltang’s burning red eyes lingered on the face attempting to conceal itself in the cloak. The man was not to know what had transpired in Sombelenë’s chambers following his own encounter with the witch, but Swiltang nevertheless felt the eddy of uncertainty from him, and snorted. He lowered his twisted body into the chair, setting the bottle he had brought with him on the ground beside it, and cupping the mead in one clawed hand as he settled back in the chair, lounging with one ankle crossed over the opposite knee. Red eyes met yellow across the intervening space, and the air between them seemed crackle with animosity, and other volatile compounds, ancient and enduring.

“Tell me, Nixë,” Sombelenë inquired, not taking her eyes from Swiltang, “What should happen if one were to fight back against the sand itself? And I am sure you understand I do not mean purely physical battle.”
Image
Evil is a lifestyle | she/her

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Image
Mozran

The orc nodded, approving their choice of victory drink. He set out two clay steins, one for the victor and one for himself. He filled them both up until the nut brown foam came cascading over the top and sloshed onto the bar’s counter. He pushed one to the victor and picked up his. “Cheers, and may you have many more successful bouts.” He clinked the steins and in one fluid motion, draining the entirety of his mug. Despite the rapid imbibement of his libations, Mozran tasted every savor bit of the doppelbock, from the dark chocolate notes to the heady plum aftertaste. He smacked his lips, wiped his chin with the back of his hand and slammed the stein back down. “Ahh! Now tha’s the stuff of dreams, tis.” He cleared his mug, wiped down the excess foam and cleared his throat as if it had never happened. “If yer looking for your winnings, yer gonna have to talk to Mig, ‘e’s a goblin, ‘bout yay big, green and angry looking. He’ll have your winnings plus the percentage of the bets. Watch ‘im though. He’s a slippery one. If you don’t watch closely, he will cheat ya. Don’t let him ramble on investments and opening accounts either, ‘t’s a bunch of nonsense to keep ya off guard. He usually stays up in the office up there,” he pointed to the stairs then slapped the table. “Now if that’s all for now, I do have other customs waitin’ on me.”


Image
The Man in Black

Deep within the shadows of the cowl, there was a white flash of a toothy grin. “I can’t take credit for naming them, Lady Sombelenë, it’s what the locals called it.”

The tone of enjoyment was immediately cut short by Swiltang’s use of the ‘Nixë’. A flash of angry blue could be seen momentarily as the cowl turned to regard the orc, but it was gone in an instant. As confused and intrigued as he was by the use of the word (something he had thought to be private between himself and the Avar), he could not help but scoff at the clear unpleasantness it seemed to cause the orc. It was a trade he could take for now, though he made a mental note to unravel that thread. He glanced at Sombelenë and cocked an eyebrow. Either she was spilling gossip about him (something he wouldn’t have minded at all) or the Maugân had a way of getting information he hadn’t sussed out yet. It was only a minor irritant, but it was one that would like itch in the back of his head until he figured it out. He thanked the abyss for the cowl covering his face. He had managed to remain placid, but any hint of any emotion was more than he was willing to give the twisted orc.

“If you truly doubt the quality of this endeavor, you are more than welcome to try it out for yourself. I’m sure we could find you a worthy opponent. You would fetch quite a lot in bets if you were to step onto the sand. Unless you are too proud to test yourself? I wouldn’t mind a ‘friendly’ bout if no one is to be found.” The smile inside the cowl was devilish and sadistic. On even ground, he knew he would stand very little chance against Swiltang, but this was not even ground.

With practiced indifference, he turned from the orc before an answer could be made and focused his attention on the Avar. He smiled, looking her up and down before answering her query. “The sands, as far as I could gather, are quite rare. They, or it, live in the wastes of the south, seemingly happy to exist within the dry, arid heat until something with meat comes along and steps in the wrong place. Thankfully, I heard about it from the locals. Well, that’s entirely accurate, a certain chieftain said he hoped the cannibal sands ate me and when pressed further, I was able to find its location and learn some of its secrets. It took nearly half the snaga I had remaining on that trip to find the boundaries of the sand and to find a way to collect it, but in the end, I managed to get quite a bit.” From a pocket within the great cloak he produced a glass bottle filled with sand and placed it on the arm of her chair. “Like any hungry beast, it can be sated. Most of the snagas I used served to glut the sand’s appetite; once that was achieved, I used a spell.” He indicated to his arms which, while covered in thick black cloth, were covered in arcane tattoos. “I’ve delved into the sand and discovered some of the secrets, most magics are useless, but there are a few spells, spells I’ve mastered thanks to him that seem to keep it in check. Please, my lady, feel free to examine the sand for yourself and see what secrets you can uncover.”
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

High Lord of Imladris
Points: 5 208 
Posts: 2755
Joined: Sat Sep 12, 2020 7:53 am
The Three Raccoons

They were lost it was very very clear that they were horribly lost. They hadn't found any food in a while, and Reginald had gone of thinking he'd smelt something that might be edible. Unfortunately for the hidden and secretive Necromancers Guild there was no amount of secretivism that could mustered would stop Reginalds nose. Especially when there were crunchy ears to be eaten, probably hobbit ears but raccoons were not so selective they could be oliphant ears, actually that would be better they'd be bigger. Ashra was the one that was accosted by them sitting at a table waiting for something to be put on the table before them. When the youth tried to shoo them away they attacked too hungry to put up with that nonsense only to be throw into the pit by Korgrîn to fight. Bob and Hob brushed themselves off and snarled at the rather tall hairless fools up there pulling out some gold coins they'd stolen from Khazad-Dum and made a few rude gestures at the Haradrim and the bouncer and threw a coin at Mig (not entirely realizing who they were throwing it at) putting a bet on themselves as it was.

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Image
Rissud

Whilst some folks might consider her an enormous monstrosity, Rissud was barely the size of a small dog. She was very, very young, the latest child of Shelob left to wander and seek her own way. She was lucky, in a way, that her mother had not devoured her as she had the rest of her nestmates. That was the secret to growing to such bulky and corpulent size, she discovered, devour everything. Rissud had tried, trapping and eating a few snakes that slithered too close, a drunken goblin that practically fell on her, asking to be eaten, but she was still a runt. Compared to her mother, or even her siblings and cousins in the forests northward, she was tiny and insignificant. One day, Rissud hoped to become as fearsome and dreadful as them, but she knew she was going to have to do things in a unique manner to get attention. That’s why she’d wandered in here. She was good and finding cracks in the foundations, squeezing and squelching through spaces many times smaller than herself. Instead of skittered through the front door, which would have earned her a kick at best or a sword to the gut at worse, she climbed in through the roof. Her carapace was black and fuzzy, easily melding with the shadows around her. She stood there, wrapped in shadow and web (she’d spun some just so she could make herself comfortable up here), and watched the opening bout. It was an interesting affair that ended with nothing she could pick at. She was already considering this hideous sand a rival for food. Pedipalps dancing in the air like the hands of an orchestral conductor, she then noticed the arrival of raccoons. Raccoons? Somehow a trio of trash pandas had snuck their way in, more or less, and meandered into the arena. The spider thought this odd, but not unlikely, given the wealth of fauna that called the Black Lands home. Inquisitively, the spiderling descended from the ceiling on a long string of spider silk, then skittered underfoot, scaring a few patrons along the way, until she was at the edge of the fighting pit. Dare she? Spiders were not normally fighters, they were shadowy monsters that struck out of the darkness. Although, she was here to do something different, and this was definitely different. She skittered into the sand, her hooked feet sinking into the strangely warm sand.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Image

Three raccoons and a spider? Nyrrigos frowned and rubbed his chin. This next fight was going to be a strange one. The raccoons looked both blood thirsty and lost, an odd combination to be sure, and the spider looked… something in the back of Nyrrigos’ mind reminded him of the spider heart he’d feasted on in the Tower of Might (and promptly threw up), he looked away. He was supposed to be officiating a fight but all that he could think about was killing that spider. He hated spiders. They were disgusting, vile, and alien. This one wasn’t very big, yet, so there was that at least. He unsheathed his sword and stepped into the ring, making sure to keep his distance from both the spider and the raccoons. He eyed the three beasts with a discerning eye. Did they know they were about to get into a fight? This was Mordor, the intelligence of the animals was higher and more sinister than in other parts of the world, it was very likely they knew exactly what they were doing. However, he sincerely hoped his fighting pits didn’t turn into an animal fighting ring, the proper licensing for such a place could be a nightmare and the orc had no desire to stand in lines for hours upon hours waiting while the noxious wheels of bureaucracy turned.

While none of these combatants looked as though they were about to join the Black Host, he felt obligated to give his schpiel. “Alright you… four. I assume by entering the arena you know what you’re getting yourself into,” he paused and groaned to himself, how the hell were the raccoons even going to understand him? And the spider? She was just as likely to go after him as her actual opponents. He narrowed his eyes and gripped the handle of his blade. “Fight however you please, but no using outside weapons, biting, kicking, scratching, gouging, punching, and all that is allowed. The fight stops when one of you can’t stay up or you’re dead.” Still having no idea of the beasts understood a single thing he said, he glared at all four of them and waved his sword towards each of them menacingly. “So go on and fight!”


Image

Pedipalps in the air, Rissun tested the air. She skittered about on her eight legs, keeping a distance from the three raccoons. Having never encountered creatures exactly like them in her experience, she thought it best to keep her distance from them, study them, observe the way they moved and coordinated themselves. Fighting three individuals was no easy task, even if they were all mammals that seemed ungraceful and inept. She could taste their flesh already in her mind. Rissun rose up onto her four back legs, rearing up to twice her normal height, hairy, dun colored legs outstretched in all directions in an impressive display of dominance. The hooks at the end of each leg buzzed with potential energy, ready to attack. She surged forward three steps, testing the raccoons then danced back just as quickly, resuming her defensive stance once again. Her great maw (or what would some day be a great maw) opened up and two glistening fangs lowered themselves, rapacious and greedy.

Defend
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Image

Nyrrigos growled under his breath. Whatever he thought would happen in this fight, it wasn’t this. This was quite literally nothing. The spider seemed ready to defend itself, but otherwise it hadn’t moved, and the raccoons seemed to have either lost interest in the fight or were too stunned by their arachnid opponent to be able to make a move. The orc had known this was a mistake. Animals and children, never let either of them near an amphitheater or a fighting pit because they were useless in both. He should have followed his old boss’s advice.

“Hey!” he snarled and smacked the stone marking the perimeters of the sand pit with the flat of his blade, the clanging steel was loud and irritating enough to wake even the drunkest of patrons. His face twisted in rage and frustration, Nyrrigos pointed the end of his arming sword at the spider first and then at the raccoons. “Are you going to fight or piss on the ground? This isn’t a game for loafing softies. If you don’t want to fight, then fredegar off and let some more worthy opponents take the sands.” He snarled and spat. The sand stirred unnaturally under his feet.


@Fuin Elda You will have 2 days to decide a move, otherwise the match will be considered void. The raccoons will not get back the coins they threw as a bet.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

High Lord of Imladris
Points: 5 208 
Posts: 2755
Joined: Sat Sep 12, 2020 7:53 am
The Raccoons

They had quickly huddled, occassionally looking at the biped with the sword, they had expected a fight from the spider not from something so armed... They were debating on taking out his kneecaps and clawing his throat when they realized that no it wasn't him they were stuck fighting it was the spider. They would have realized this if they'd listened at all but the tusks on his face made his words strange to their ears.

They turned around and pointed at him and chattered rather angrily all puffed up making themselves look much larger than they actually were unfazed by his sword now, they debated on weather or not they should team up with the spider and attack him for being rude when they noticed the sand stirring. Right that was frightening.

And all hell broke lose Bob and Hob launched at the spider and Reginald the third confused by the angry man with the sword launched at Nyrrigos because quite frankly he was more of a light bulb in the knife drawer completely and utterly useless but terribly brutal in a fight. Fortunately Bob and Hob saw this grabbed him by his tail and swung him towards the spider and the quickly followed after him in a three mawed and clawed attack.

Attack

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Image

That seemed to do the trick. Nyrrigos huffed a laughed and stepped aside. He arched a brow as one of the raccoons tried to launched itself at him, a bored look of disregard showed over his orcish features. When the wretched creature was yanked away at the last second he shrugged, mildly disappointed. He would have either sliced the beast in two or caught and broke its neck. He’d have to find his lunch some other way it seemed. Still, he kept an eye on that one, the fight was still early, it might yet to something stupid. Balancing the arming sword on his knee, the dark green skinned orc leaned back against the stone wall, well away from where the sands had been disturbed. It would be awake soon, he noted, he’d woken them up much sooner in this bout than in the last one. How hungry were the sands now after they’d already eaten the last loser? The Man in Black didn’t reveal much about the sands, just that they were hungry and to spread them across the floor of the pit.

The raccoons’ coordinated attack would have worked better if there had just been two of them, and they were going up against an opponent that didn’t have eight legs. The third raccoon’s clumsy assault on the spider alerted her to what they were planning. After flicking him aside with a lazy kick from one of her forelegs and knocking him into the wall (though doing no actual damage), the spider spun with terrifying dexterity to face the first of the two smarter raccoons. On six legs, the giant arachnid launched herself forward, knocking aside the raccoon aside and skittering over him to put distance between herself and the final raccoon. He was faster and nimbler that his two siblings. Had he entered the arena on his own, he might have faired better, unfortunately (or fortunately for the spider) his siblings more or less got in the way. His attack, claws whirling and jaws snapping, would have landed a devastating blow to the spider, should have. But the distance she managed to put between herself and his airborne assault was crucial. Not expecting to have a leap a great distance, the raccoon began to descend before he was able to get his hands on the spider. Instead he crashed into a pile of his younger siblings. Thankfully for them, no damage was done in the catastrophe and that the spider found no avenue of assault as the pile of fur and teeth untangled itself and spread out once more, denying her a chance to land an easy attack.


Round 1:
The Raccoon Brothers @Fuin Elda (missed through disadvantage on an 8) – the aerial attacks, while nearly perfectly executed, were derailed by the fact that Reginald couldn’t get with the program and nearly got himself killed by attacking the MC. The effort in keeping him in line cost Hob and Bob the chance to score an early attack

Rissud @The King in Yellow (no attack made, no roll)

The Raccoon Brothers – 25 HP
Rissud – 25 HP
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Black Númenórean
Points: 2 938 
Posts: 2854
Joined: Sat May 16, 2020 9:29 pm
Image
Shroomîsh

“Come along,” snapped Shroomîsh. The mushroom and the elf had journeyed far to this so-called Guild of Necromancers. Of course, it did not know that the tall being (its potential “partner,” as ordered by the lady with all the papers) was an elf. It didn’t know all the names for all the peoples, nor did it yet fully understand any feud between races except that which it had with its own father. When the lady had paired up the people in the tent, Shroomîsh had gazed skywards at the tall being (noticeably less hairy than its father) and scowled. Granted, the only expressions it had displayed thus far in life were expressions of displeasure, so this was nothing special.

They entered the Guild. There was a pit, and some sand, and a spider, and some trash pandas, and some tables. It looked like the sand had come to life, too - Shroomîsh wondered if the sand’s parents had been so inconsiderate as its own father had been. The little mushroom would have to ask the sands later, for it was supposed to pay attention to the tall being for the moment. Or so it thought. What was a “partner”? Someone with whom to spread its fungal spores? Perhaps. It remained to be seen if this individual was amenable to the notion of world domination.

Lacking arms and being about half the height of a chair leg, Shroomîsh hopped and struggled in vain for several long moments to clamber onto a seat. Finally, out of breath and angry from these fruitless exertions, it collapsed beneath the table, its little legs splaying out from beneath its head-body.

“So,” it panted. “What brought you to that tent? And what are your thoughts on mind control?”

Image
Mig the Bookie

Mig hummed tunelessly as he meandered into the Necromancer’s Guild and toward his usual table at the back. “Ahhh!” he sighed. “Another night, another fight.” He opened his ledger and idly drew from within the pouch at his waist a single golden coin, then sat down and leaned back to see what mischief was afoot tonight. He flipped the coin into the air with his thumb, catching it deftly each time it fell.

There were some spectators - odd ones, at that - but the clientele was mundane when you looked into the pit and saw the fighters. A spider versus three raccoons? What would they think of next?! And no one had placed any bets when the fight began! Ordinarily, he’d be irked by this lack of investment, but this was an outrage. How could anyone not invest in such a fascinating spectacle? And he’d thought the last fight was unusual! Still, he kept his quill inked and his ears sharp for any takers.
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

High Lord of Imladris
Points: 5 208 
Posts: 2755
Joined: Sat Sep 12, 2020 7:53 am
Three Raccoons

The attack failed well only just, fortunately however Reginald was now all in against the spider mostly because if it was at all possible they were the thing that he liked to eat the most. Especially when one rubbed all the hairs off of them first. THis one was big enough that they'd have to kill it. Which I mean shouldn't be too hard after all it had to use at least three limbs to hold them off and sooner or later a tooth or claw would get through and scratch an eye or tear a leg claw off since honestly the three brothers were not at all perturbed by the creatures shows of aggression. Or whatever that belly showing nonsense dance had been before.

Hob darted to the left Bob now was moving behind it thanks to the spider tossing him away the first time and Reginald, well Reginald really wanted to chew on the things left chelicerae those things always seemed to be the juiciest and Reginald had absolutely no fear of a spider. The three of them had survived one of Farmer Maggots dogs, which was much bigger than this spider, this spider was nothing. With that the three of them attacked as one, Hob going for the back leg to try to lame the thing up, Bob hoping to jump onto its back and start clawing it's eyes out from behind and Reginald was trying to get right in its face to bight it's chelicerae right off.

They didn't even realize that the gold coin they'd tossed at the bookie had been ignored, or they would be quite angry about that but it was probably for the best that they were not distracted.

Attack

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Image

The three raccoons looked slightly more coordinated now, at least all of them were aware that she was the enemy they needed to beat (not that they would of course). But they were still mammals and were easily predictable. Rissud was ready for their coordinated attack though. One of the advantages to being a spider (aside from all of them) was that she could use her eight eyes and eight legs to survey and defend herself form multiple angles. If she had been dealing with eagle or some other large avian species she might be in trouble, but the raccoons didn’t pose too much of a threat to her at this time. They seemed to distracted with thoughts of eating her (not that she could tell exactly what they were thinking but mammals by and large thought about eating and… well it was not time to be crass). She watched with two eyes as two of the raccoons circled around to try and attack her from the rear while the remaining one went for her face.

In an effort to disrupt their plans, the spiderling spun, turning a rapid one hundred and eighty degrees to face the two smarter raccoons. With a quick look behind her, she aimed her spinnerets at the one previously charging her face, and launched a thick blob of webbing at its head. This would not be enough to ensnare it (that would come later, after she’d worked up an appetite), but it would be enough to distract the creature if she aimed correctly. If it hit, they’d have to use a turn or two getting the sticky substance off and she’d have an easier time dealing with the two smarter ones. Speaking of the smarter ones, she lunged forward, using the natural springing power coiled up in her legs in a similar way to her tiny cousins, and extended her fangs, each glistening with paralytic venom.

Attack!

Note: performing double duty here, I will post the roll results separately, likely tomorrow, in order to give anyone in the crowd a chance to react to the fight thus far should they wish. This way I’m not overwhelming myself trying to coordinate too many things at once.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Galadhrim Bowmaster
Points: 299 
Posts: 179
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 4:01 pm
Aduchil and the (Small) Giant Mushroom


Aduchil entered the establishment in what he considered subdued fashion, which meant pushing rather than kicking doors open. Surveying the culinary wasteland, his nose picked up countless odours. Sweat, magic, and nutmeg, for the most part. This did not bode well; nutmeg was a dangerous ingredient in the hands of the inexperienced.

"Come along," said the tiny creature by his side. Keeping his wits sharp, Aduchil followed it to a table while eyeing the other patrons. Following an oversized mushroom did not faze the Elf; the only strange thing was that it had appeared before indulging in his special concoction. Usually it happened after. Surely a sign of the potion's efficacy that it could work backwards in time.

He took a seat at their chosen table with his usual grace. Ignoring the sounds of physical exertion from the other side of the table, Aduchil looked around for service. Their entries to this place had included drinks, and he would not waste the opportunity to sample something. "Waitress!" he called out, seeking the attention of the staff. Nothing happened. Perhaps restaurant etiquette was different in Mordor. "Woman!" the Elf shouted. Still nothing. "Wench! Witch! Watch?"

The miniscule creature had asked him a question. A good one. Why had he gone to the tent? Why was he in Mordor? Did he remember to turn off the stove? Aduchil felt anxious for a moment until he remembered. The stove had exploded three hundred years ago. It was definitely turned off.

"I came to the tent seeking someone. A special someone." It returned to him. Aduchil patted the small bag hidden inside his tunic. It remained safe. It had taken him ages to prepare this consigment. "The mind, you say. I seek to expand it. Mine, that is. The mind of mine. You can only expand what you control."

Black Númenórean
Points: 2 938 
Posts: 2854
Joined: Sat May 16, 2020 9:29 pm
Image
Shroomîsh

Still collapsed in a heap beneath the table, Shroomîsh did not like being unable to see the tall being’s face. How could it tell from here if the tall one was trustworthy? The being spoke of expanding its mind. Shroomîsh could help with that. But the more pertinent question was would it help? It had many mind-expanding spores at its disposal, after all, but it wouldn’t share them with just anyone. Perhaps this is what the lady with the papers had sent them here to do: to assess one another’s trustworthiness. Did the lady in the tent seek world domination herself? If so, was Shroomîsh merely an instrument in some larger scheme? Well in that case, she’s got to go, thought the mushroom.

“You set your sights on such a small prize,” the mushroom mused, focusing its attention on the voice floating down from above. “Why expand only your own mind when you could take control of all the minds within a certain radius of here with the right partner and the right materials?” Yes, somehow the mushroom had learned of radii. It was a fast learner.

“Anyway. A little help?” it squeaked with not a little indignation. The tall one would need to help it onto a seat, or better yet, the table itself, if they were to have a real discussion.
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

Post Reply