Turtledome! [Arena]

KenHood

First Post
Like a dozen rivers emptying into the ocean, the flow of traffic in the streets of Daunton first trickles, then flows to the same location: Titan's Footprint, the largest harbor of the island.

The sense of excitement is palpable.

"It's here!"

"It just arrived this morning!"

"They say they had to relocate half the navy just to make room for it!"

Yet their exclamations are whispers, as if speaking too loud may dispel the magic of the morning.

---

You follow the crowds.

As you step into the open, finally able to see past the warehouses at the edge of the docks, you see it.

A turtle.

A turtle larger than your most outrageous imaginings.

Its head--dwarfing any galleon--nearly touches the end of the main pier.

Its shell...

Its shell beggars all measurement of scale.

Its shell is carved into a huge coliseum. The natural green and browns sculpted into frescoes of humans, elves, dwarves, and other common 'civilized' races dominated by monsters of all kinds.

---

The crowd gathers before the head of the turtle.

You would expect an incredible din from the throng of people, but there is a hush of expectation, a teetering a-tip-toe and holding of breath.
 

log in or register to remove this ad

CaBaNa

First Post
PaPa! Papa! Can I pet it?!

No son, that would beleaguer the spectacle.

Belly ache rr the spegtakule... But it's a turtle, lookie, lookie a turtle!

That my boy, is a snapping turtle, and if you pet it, you will lose an arm.

OOOOO, so can I pet it...

The father cuffs the son on the back of the head. Watching, he gets an idea.

Son, one day, if you grow up big and strong, or powerful in some other way, you can pet that turtle. In fact, you can OWN it.

OK!

Thus went many conversations around the Titans Footprint, the day Turtledome arrived.
 

JoeNotCharles

First Post
Alanax the weather wizard stood in the front door of the Harbourmaster's Office, arms crossed, staring at the giant beast in surly disapproval. "The number of spells it took to clear the approach for that thing..." he thought. "And the paperwork! So many ships rerouted... And all for entertainment." He sighs, shakes his head, and disappears back inside. "I can't stand here gawking, I have work to do." Was that a twinge of jealousy?
 

KenHood

First Post
From the direction of the turtle's head, a voice speaks. Its tone is cultured and undoubtedly male. Somehow all (no matter how distant) hear its words...

You know the stories.

You've told them countless times and heard them even more.

Some of you are even the heroes of these tales.

The bold warrior. The pious priest. The clever wizard. The deft rogue.

They leave the civilized world and enter the dark places, the untamed places. There, they find the lairs of 'monsters'--walking horrors possesses of inneffable evil--and they do battle, destroying these foul threats to all that is 'good' and 'decent'. These 'valiant' adventurers return from their journeys, laden with treasure, feted by king and commoner. And 'civilization' is safe, once again.


The clack of wooden sandals echoes across the bay.

Step by measured step, an oni walks to the tip of the Turtle's nose. The pale hair of the oni is arranged in a complicated coif of seven teirs, capped by an odd structure, almost like a small tower or pagoda, from which shines an orange light. The creature wears a kimono woven from brilliant yellow and red cloth, decorated with plum blossoms and peacocks. He holds a fan, white and painted with the turtle upon which he stands. The teeth of his geta are two feet long, if an inch.

But we are not the children of 'civilization'.

We are the monsters in your tale.

It is our sons and daughters murdered in the name of your 'goodness' and 'decency'.

It is our heirlooms and relics plundered and purloined.

It is our lives destroyed.

And while your pipers play for the heroes' triumph, we lift up our voices in a funeral dirge, wailing and gnashing our teeth for all that we have lost.

And you dare to call us monsters.


He pauses, studies the crowd, and snorts.

No more.

NO MORE!

For we have come to you. And we shall take our revenge.

Bring us your best and brightest. We shall break them on our wheel of pain.

For I am Aggravus Pinch.

And this...

...is...

TURTLEDOME!


The crowd roars, mad with pleasure. They've heard this all before.

Where Pinch's voice once had the solemn tone of a soothsayer, now it has risen to the fevered pitch of a carnival hawker.

And do we have one hell of a Turtledome for you, folks!
 

KenHood

First Post
First, let's hear it for the Tibias of Terror, the Clavicles of Castigation, the Ribs of Reaping, the...

Legion of Bone!

The crowd cheers as six skeletons march out from behind Aggravus Pinch. Each skeleton wears a black and white skull mask--which doesn't make much sense considering that they already have skulls for heads.

The lead skeleton snaps his head off his neck and holds it aloft in both hands. In a sepulchural voice, he yells, "YOU! ARE! BONED!"

The crowd goes wild.

[sblock=Battle Info]The Legion of Bone arena fight is a level 1 minion battle, with a lot of minions. Or rather, it's more of a total party kill masquerading as a level 1 battle.

Are you up for the challenge?[/sblock]
 


KenHood

First Post
But that's not all, ladies and gentlemen. Not by a long shot! No sirree!

Whilst traveling about the fine lands of the Transitive Isles, meeting and defeating the very best you have to offer...


Aggravus takes a moment to grin, savoring the cat-calls and boo's from the crowd at his last turn of phrase.

We discovered a new band of warriors, ready to RIP you a new one--and then suck your intestines out of it, with or without a straw! Let's hear a warm welcome for our feral favorites...

The Badgermen of Zarkov!​

Out they rush, leaping like madmen, pumping the air with their fists, five massively muscular men--peaks of physical perfection--clad only in loincloths, with badgers for heads.

No, not the heads of badgers.

Their heads are badgers.

Little angry badgers with pointy teeth and nasty claws.

Nasty claws with the middle digit extended, flipping off all of Daunton, mothers everywhere, puppies, and everything else nice in the world.

And their little badger heads wear brightly colored cloth masks, decorated with flames and lightning bolts.

As one the Badgermen of Zarkov turn, flip up their loincloths, and moon the crowd. All the while, their little badger heads screech unpleasant and profane things in their unclean badger tongue.

And again the crowd roars.

[sblock=Battle Info]The Badgermen of Zarkov are a level 2 encounter in the 'Warren of Chaos'. There will be a lot of terrain and traps involved, as well as a giant mount.[/sblock]
 

KenHood

First Post
And finally, dear people, he's back.

You know who I'm talking about.

The undefeated champion of the Light Heroic Division...


Beside you, a burly man -- probably a blacksmith -- leaps about squealing like a little girl. "He means Migtroth! He means Migtroth!" Only to collapse from overexcitement, foaming at the mouth.

The Mite of Might...

"Mig-troth! Mig-troth!" the crowd chants.

The Diminutive Destroyer...

"We love you, Migtroth!" screams a woman in the distance.

Migtroth the Magnificent!

An unseen band plays, somehow making their harps and violins wail like electric guitars.

And arms raised in triumph, HE strides to the tip of the turtle's nose.

HE, meaning the biggest kobold you have ever seen.

Really, he's, like, almost four feet tall.

With biceps the size of basketballs.

His scales gleam in the dying sun. Upon his head, he wears a bright red cloth mask, decorated with dragon's wings.

He slashes the air with his claws. All sound stops.

He leans forward and roars in a thoroughly masculine, baritone kobold voice (meaning 'high-pitched and screechy' to everyone else)...

Bring me your heroes! I will make them into zeroes!

And the crowd SCREAMS!

[sblock=Battle Info]Migtroth the Magnificent is a level 3 solo monster cage-match.

Did you get that last part?

Cage. Match.[/sblock]
 



Remove ads

Top