[4e] Fallen - Chapter I: Blood and Sand (Full)

Sparky · Oct 19, 2009

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Fallen

Chapter I: Blood and Sand

Starring...

Atrius, Half-elf Bard... hafrogman
Caged Fury, Shifter Monk... Walking Dad
Pirx, Goblin Ranger... Kobold Stew
Rodeh, Dwarf Warden... eblue562

Links
OOC Thread
Rogue's Gallery

Prologue: The Crucible

Sparky · Oct 19, 2009

The air in the tunnel leading out to the arena floor is hot. Close. The portcullis rattles up and the tunnel brightens, filling with light and the cheers of the crowd and a breeze that gives a brief, if dusty, respite from the still air. Attendants drag battered corpses past, trailing a path of sandy blood and loops of organs that once nested neatly inside. It’s been ugly out there. The gate rattles back down, thumping into the sand of the arena floor. It’s dim and quiet and still in the tunnel again.

Sweat soaks your clothes and trickles, tickling, where its path is not restricted by the cinch of armor or the chafing of clothing. Though nothing chafes more than the Collar. A ‘gift’ from the Arena masters to the brutal darlings of the Arena. Warriors who’d lasted long enough to become favorites in the Arena (and, by virtue of that same prowess, a danger to their handlers) were ‘rewarded’ with a Collar. Collars had all manner of disquieting properties designed to keep high-value Arena slaves in line while not overtly affecting their performances.

There are three of you today – Atrius, Q’ynn and Rodeh.

An attendant moves down the line checking ties and buckles and straps, the last inspection before the gate rises. A second attendant moves down the line helping you into tunics of silver-trimmed royal blue bearing Septimus Sarcus’s crest – a laurel and sword – on the breast. A last attendant distributes dragon-faced helms that hide your faces, thankfully without obscuring your peripheral vision. Much.

The heat and stuffiness of the corridor lends itself to unpleasant thoughts. You have that twitchy feeling of being watched. Standing in the swelter of the tunnel, awaiting the announcement of your match, the main event that all of the day’s brutality has been building towards, it's hard not to wonder what wonders and atrocities await on the other side of the portal.

eblue562 · Oct 19, 2009

Calm down.

Rodeh breathed a heavy sigh as the attendant helps him into his tunic. The only reason the sturdy dwarf needed any help was the bindings that were keeping him in his place. The magic that subdued him when needed was being used more often, the stifling Collar pulsed a nagging pain almost constantly now. He could feel the red rage boiling inside of him. This was what he got for staying alive? Being forced to wrought more destruction, pain, agony, and death? This was his reward for using all the skills his father taught him?

THIS??

Calm.

He glanced over to his side to see the two others next to him being outfitted in the same, ridiculous outfits. He couldn't help but chuckle softly to himself. They looked like damn puppets, and that's what he felt like they were too. Atrius, a wry fighter that seemed deft on his feet and had a great knack of staying alive, was next to him. Though they hadn't battled each other, yet, Rodeh had heard of this one's fighting prowess. No doubt Atrius had heard of the loudmouth dwarf as well.

Looking down the line, he saw Q'ynn, the Invoker. As Atrius, he had not had the pleasure of fighting this one in the Arena, but Rodeh doubted that he would want to. This one uses powers that were beyond the stout little Warden's comprehension, much to his own chagrin. But this one had stayed alive, like the other two locked in the portcullis with him, and for that, Rodeh had great respect for the human and half-elf. The others, though, Rodeh wondered what had become of them...

The smell of blood invaded his nostrils as the attendants came back again, this time carrying dragon-faced masks. As one approached Rodeh, his eyes went wide and for a moment and the dwarf forgot about his calming tactics.

"Oh for the love of the Nine Hells, do we have ta go prancin' about like a bunch'a fairies before we take heads off! Just you wait until I take dat mask and stuff da pointy end weer *smuff nue Uff*" The attendant shoved the mask over Rodeh's mouth and sneered at him as he pulled it down, temporarily silencing the insults. The dwarf responded in turn with a large smile, then spit in his face. He looked over at his three comrades that day, dragon-faced costume and all, and shrugged.

"I guess we be easy targets," Rodeh said, summoning his armor to him, "But that be kinda the point in my case."

hafrogman · Oct 19, 2009

Atrius nods vague greetings to the other two gladiators as he is led into the tunnel. He is rather subdued at the sight of the bodies being dragged past them. The crowds demand death today, not a good time to fight. He silently ignores the attendant checking over his equipment, but raises an eyebrow as he is adorned with the tunic and helm.

Atrius turns to watch as the dwarf rants against the helmet for a moment, but luckily it doesn't escalate. The dwarf still hasn't been broken yet, good. But he also knows how to pick his fights.

Still ... something seems off today.

"I don't think we're meant to be targets. I don't know what they're up to, but they wouldn't bother with all this stuff just for us to die in seconds. They've dressed us up in these costumes for a reason, some kind of show they want. We just have to make sure the ending is right.

Three identical helmets, three identical tunics. We're in this together today. We stand or fall as one. Watch out for each other out there."

He stares into the eyes of the two gladiators, making sure they understand. Teamwork has no time for cowards or the undisciplined.

Insight · Oct 20, 2009

Q'ynn Daelrith says nothing as the attendants dress him in such ignoble raiments. He looks left and right, seeing Atrius and Rodeh in the same boat, although the former nobleman doubts either of them feels as shamed to be paraded about in the arena in such garb as did Q'ynn.

Q'ynn waits for the gate to rise, hoping that perhaps this battle, one with such buildup, might be the last one before he gains his freedom.

hafrogman said:
"I don't think we're meant to be targets. I don't know what they're up to, but they wouldn't bother with all this stuff just for us to die in seconds. They've dressed us up in these costumes for a reason, some kind of show they want. We just have to make sure the ending is right.

Three identical helmets, three identical tunics. We're in this together today. We stand or fall as one. Watch out for each other out there."

He stares into the eyes of the two gladiators, making sure they understand. Teamwork has no time for cowards or the undisciplined.

Q'ynn nods at the suggestion. He agrees, mostly.

Kobold Stew · Oct 20, 2009

The intense light of the sun inevitably creates a division: light, dark; outside, inside; hope, despair. A bitter meridian that cleanly divides the gladiators' home from the dry sand of the arena.

So hot is it today that slaves have cast buckets of water on the arena floor in hopes of diminishing the dust. The buckets all lie in a corner now, amidst other refuge from the previous fight, warming in the intense light. They remain on the edge of the perceptual range of the audience, who are here for blood. Always for blood.

Sparky · Oct 24, 2009

The guard keeps half an eye on Rodeh after the outburst. The attendant dressing the dwarf suffers the indignity of being spat at miserably. There was one punishment worse than the punishment for trying to escape the Arena... failing to prepare gladiators for their matches. The punishment was intended to dissuade attendants from sabotaging a gladiator's gear and in so doing, rig a fight. But it also served to keep the attendants on their toes. The attendant's jaw muscles bunch and he wipes his face on his shoulder, barely dropping a beat as his hands continue their methodical work. The guard snorts and shakes his head, muttering something under his breath.

The attendants make a final check of the three gladiators and then withdraw. The guard follows them.

Muffled, outside you can hear a voiced raised, muffled, you can tell by the rise and fall, the pacing, the cadence that the speaker is an orator of some kind. The muffled voice rises and punctuates the end of the speech with a rousing cry. The tunnel trembles. Dust filters down from the raftered ceiling, shaken free by the thundrous response from the crowd.

The gates swing open and the crowds roar drowns the metallic shriek of the portcullis rising. This is your cue. You have no idea what today's battle will bring, only that you're to walk to the middle of the arena and stand back to back.

The sand of the Arena is black. Looking more closely, it's not sand at all, but fine gravel. It crunches under your feet. As soon as the tabards and dragon helms are sighted the crowd's enthusiastic roar grows louder.

The arena floor rises slowly toward the center, rising more steeply towards the middle making a small hill. Three standards are thrust into the ground. White, bearing the ram's head of the 7th Legion; Red, bearing the crossed swords and halved paya fruit of Andrius; Purple, bearing the laurel and hand - the Emperor's seal.

There are flashes in the shaded seats as raucous fans of the bloodsport spit their breath in gouts of flame and lightning.

eblue562 · Oct 27, 2009

Rodeh nods at Atrius's observation, and checks his gear once more as the portcullis slowly rattles open. The fine gravel is the first thing the dwarf sees. Why is today so different, what makes this fight special from all the other ones? From before the fight, Rodeh knew that he was to make his way toward the middle of the large arena. With the words of Atrius fresh on his mind, he begins to step forward.

Dragonborn have filled the Arena, as they always do. Those with more bloodlust shoot their mouths full of fire and lightning, ready to feel their cravings satiated. Rodeh adjusts his mask and looks around. The hill near the middle of the Arena floor stands as the only landmark that appears different. This whole situation had an intense feel of ... different about it. The Warden knew that he had to be ready for whatever kind of game they play.

"When we move forward, let me stay in the front, laddies," The dwarf said as he took a few more steps forward, "I'll make sure whatever comes at me doesn't come at all of us." Cautious and ever-aware, Rodeh scans the crowd and the arena floor for any sign of his mysterious visit a few weeks ago, and then studies the three Banners resting on top of the hill for any signs of a trap or enemies lying in the wait. He raises his shield in front of him and keeps Amma at the ready.

{OOC: Perception (22) roll to see if there are any traps or enemies at or near the Banners on top of the hill in the middle of the Arena. Insight (9) roll to determine if the crowd shows any different signs of emotion about this arena battle in particular. Also: Ready and Action; Rodeh will use Thorn Strike (+13 vs. AC) to attack the first thing that comes within 2 squares of him and pull it one square closer to him, also dealing 1d8+6 damage.}

hafrogman · Oct 30, 2009

Atrius walks out into the arena with the others by his side. The gravel is odd. . . that will hurt to fall on. Got to be careful with their footing. He looks around for an opponent, but sees nothing. But the crowds reaction is the most interesting. The roar that rises up is new, practically reminiscent of the old days. Something had them whipped up today. Still, best to start in on them now. He raises one fist in the air and pumps it towards the crowd, uttering a cry of his own.

Rodeh's comments bring him back to the matters at hand.

"Well, then, let's get moving. Three banners, three of us. We wouldn't want to keep anyone waiting, would we?"

Insight · Oct 31, 2009

hafrogman said:
"Well, then, let's get moving. Three banners, three of us. We wouldn't want to keep anyone waiting, would we?"

"No," Q'ynn Daelrith says. He starts towards the mound, wary of an ambush. "We wouldn't."

OOC: Q'ynn will keep an eye to the sides of the arena, especially where he knows there are other entrances.