Creamsteak
Explorer
The barracks of the Eleventh Legion was one of the first buildings constructed upon landing in the isolated region now called the Militocracy of Zathas. From the shell of the great warship Aiengarde, a massive structure was made. The building was made almost as if the ship itself had been flipped upside down, it's mast removed and the hull now covered with windows and balconies. The Aiengarde now stands over one hundred feet high and wide and three hundred feet to its broad side. Five floors were created from the decks of the ships structure, and and another level was carved into the bedrock below. It is here that the members of the Eleventh Legion eat and sleep.
The Eleventh legion is commanded by the general Zeke Algus. Ezekiel Algus is an aged but strong man, decorated in a grey mustache but otherwise bald, standing over six feet high and muscled like a weight lifter, he would intimidate all but the biggest men. His uniform is perfectly maintained, and his only irregular marking is a heavy black eyepatch that covers his left socket.
Algus is a reputed hero decorated many times over, not the least of which is his mark as a veteran of the famed Battle of Havshur, 50 years ago. At Havshur, it is said that a beast as tall as the mighty Aiengarde awakened deep within the Wild Lands of Zathas and wrecked havok over the entire jungle. The giants of the far south, the kobolds of the east, the trogs of the west, the drow of the forests, and the kuo-toa and sahaguin of the waters came to beg peace with Zathas - a rest from our daily wars - and peace was had. The story goes that only our fine imperial steel could drive the beast away, and when our armies stood before the monster it fled in terror to save itself. It is also said that when the great beast turned, so too did our temporary allies. The feral monsters of these jungles turned on our armies, and so earned the eternal brand as traitors.
The old general stands now, on a raised platform above the mess hall looking down over his entire unit. Before him, a few hundred soldiers in various states of melancholy as they look towards the general and the large open sand pit that was hastily made in front of him. The circular pit, only twenty feet across, seems to have been retrofitted into the structure overnight while most of the legion rested. Many can feel the chilling fear and warm excitement taking over the crowd as they ready themselves in anticipation of what may come. The soldiers here today stand in their rags and street clothes, their uniforms and weapons left behind in their dress rooms. If one did not know better, they would look like a crowd of the worst sort - criminals, thugs, toughs, and hoods.
Today, in the mess hall on the ground-level deck of the Aiengarde, a special ceremony is taking place. Today, for the honor of all to see, a test of strength has been declared. Overseen by the General Algus, watched by the officers and knights of the highest caliber from the Eleventh Legion, a tournament is being held to annoint a new Sergeant. Someone to lead an expedition into the jungles. This honor and priviledge can only be awarded to someone who demonstrates the pride of his Legion, and in the Eleventh - this is most often shown in righteous combat.
"Today, my sons, we will find out who among you has the skills necessary to win your right of command!"
The crowd, suddenly silenced by the slow, gravely, powerful voice of the one-eyed silver-ogre*. The general continues...
"In the name of our king, today we look upon those willing to enter the ring as gladiators. When I call out to you to start, those of you brave enough to enter the ring - jump down into the pit. Should only one man jump, that man shall be called the victor. Should two or more men step into that pit, may the last man still in the pit and concious win the day and earn his right of command. These rules are simple. Whether you win by strength, guile, trickery, skill, speed, intellect, endurance, or crafty diplomacy - he who stands at the end shall be the winner. These rules are simple. Also know, that should you kill any of your brothers, I will step in and deal with you as the Eleventh deals with traitors - with death. So be careful in there..."
He pauses for half a breath, interrupting the thoughts of those planning...
"BEGIN!"
OOC:
[sblock]Trying to start us off with some action. This will be a mini-game of sorts. I'm giving everyone the opportunity to roleplay either from the inside of the ring or the outside. Depending on whether you step in or remain outside, I'll have a different set of events for you to deal with over a number of rounds. When things are all said and done... we'll see who the real winner is. Instead of relying heavily on the combat and grappling rules to resolve this, I'm actually depending on how the players choose to describe their actions from the get go. Feel free to be extra creative (invent characters, rivalries, techniques, situations, and play off each others descriptions if you can). I'll be playing along as well, as the rest of the people involved.
This is somewhat a free-for-all roleplaying thing here, to try and get people to loosen up a bit and give people the opportunities to quickly set the stage for their characters. No holds here, if you want the arena to be interrupted by a monster in the sand-pit, then introduce it. This will set the stage and let me see what I'm working with...[/sblock]
*A title, he's not an ogre.
The Eleventh legion is commanded by the general Zeke Algus. Ezekiel Algus is an aged but strong man, decorated in a grey mustache but otherwise bald, standing over six feet high and muscled like a weight lifter, he would intimidate all but the biggest men. His uniform is perfectly maintained, and his only irregular marking is a heavy black eyepatch that covers his left socket.
Algus is a reputed hero decorated many times over, not the least of which is his mark as a veteran of the famed Battle of Havshur, 50 years ago. At Havshur, it is said that a beast as tall as the mighty Aiengarde awakened deep within the Wild Lands of Zathas and wrecked havok over the entire jungle. The giants of the far south, the kobolds of the east, the trogs of the west, the drow of the forests, and the kuo-toa and sahaguin of the waters came to beg peace with Zathas - a rest from our daily wars - and peace was had. The story goes that only our fine imperial steel could drive the beast away, and when our armies stood before the monster it fled in terror to save itself. It is also said that when the great beast turned, so too did our temporary allies. The feral monsters of these jungles turned on our armies, and so earned the eternal brand as traitors.
The old general stands now, on a raised platform above the mess hall looking down over his entire unit. Before him, a few hundred soldiers in various states of melancholy as they look towards the general and the large open sand pit that was hastily made in front of him. The circular pit, only twenty feet across, seems to have been retrofitted into the structure overnight while most of the legion rested. Many can feel the chilling fear and warm excitement taking over the crowd as they ready themselves in anticipation of what may come. The soldiers here today stand in their rags and street clothes, their uniforms and weapons left behind in their dress rooms. If one did not know better, they would look like a crowd of the worst sort - criminals, thugs, toughs, and hoods.
Today, in the mess hall on the ground-level deck of the Aiengarde, a special ceremony is taking place. Today, for the honor of all to see, a test of strength has been declared. Overseen by the General Algus, watched by the officers and knights of the highest caliber from the Eleventh Legion, a tournament is being held to annoint a new Sergeant. Someone to lead an expedition into the jungles. This honor and priviledge can only be awarded to someone who demonstrates the pride of his Legion, and in the Eleventh - this is most often shown in righteous combat.
"Today, my sons, we will find out who among you has the skills necessary to win your right of command!"
The crowd, suddenly silenced by the slow, gravely, powerful voice of the one-eyed silver-ogre*. The general continues...
"In the name of our king, today we look upon those willing to enter the ring as gladiators. When I call out to you to start, those of you brave enough to enter the ring - jump down into the pit. Should only one man jump, that man shall be called the victor. Should two or more men step into that pit, may the last man still in the pit and concious win the day and earn his right of command. These rules are simple. Whether you win by strength, guile, trickery, skill, speed, intellect, endurance, or crafty diplomacy - he who stands at the end shall be the winner. These rules are simple. Also know, that should you kill any of your brothers, I will step in and deal with you as the Eleventh deals with traitors - with death. So be careful in there..."
He pauses for half a breath, interrupting the thoughts of those planning...
"BEGIN!"
OOC:
[sblock]Trying to start us off with some action. This will be a mini-game of sorts. I'm giving everyone the opportunity to roleplay either from the inside of the ring or the outside. Depending on whether you step in or remain outside, I'll have a different set of events for you to deal with over a number of rounds. When things are all said and done... we'll see who the real winner is. Instead of relying heavily on the combat and grappling rules to resolve this, I'm actually depending on how the players choose to describe their actions from the get go. Feel free to be extra creative (invent characters, rivalries, techniques, situations, and play off each others descriptions if you can). I'll be playing along as well, as the rest of the people involved.
This is somewhat a free-for-all roleplaying thing here, to try and get people to loosen up a bit and give people the opportunities to quickly set the stage for their characters. No holds here, if you want the arena to be interrupted by a monster in the sand-pit, then introduce it. This will set the stage and let me see what I'm working with...[/sblock]
*A title, he's not an ogre.