Buck takes his vitamin and asks for two eggs in a glass with milk.  Then he climbs in the van with Creech.  "Well, here we go gang..."....Buck looks in his belt pouch for his mustache wax.

Quote from: wulfgar;250416Creature gets in.

Zarko moves to get in the car, but notices Creature doing the same.

Not wanting to accidentally get crushed or anything, Zarko patiently waits his turn, then gets in.

I also get in.

Quazarn sprays himself with a touch more of the osmotic mojo-cologne and -somewhat nervously- enters the vehicle.

The orcs help you into the sleeping tubes racked in the back.  Lulled by the motion of the limbo van, and the green glow of the radio console playing soft rock turned way down low, you soon drift off to sleep.

Tumbling out of the sleeping tubes and stepping stiffly out of the van the next morning you find yourselves on a spreading green lawn.  Vehicles of all models and states of repair are parked in hilter kilter rows -- damn' vans, jump bikes, cave primitive jalopies and chopped motorcycles next to sleek mag-runners and golden-threaded flying carpets.  

Just as motley are the folks gathering for the Brawl.  A few cars away a red-faced strongman in a striped leotard does a vein-popping isometric workout while an obese elven swami looks on, standing on one leg and sneering.  Wooky roars and dwarven work songs rise above the low commotion.  

The lawn slopes gently to a low, wide-fronted mansion in the austere yet pompous Vulkin style.  The building is in poor repair, but clusters of jerry-rigged antennae and satellite platters jut from the roof.  Tents and food stalls flank the house.  But it's the wall that draws your attention above all else.  A high wooden palisade stands in the back lawn of the estate, three or four stories tall.  As far as you can tell there are neither windows nor bleachers, and only a single entrance through a tunnel off to one side of the manse.  Guard towers spaced every few hundred feet make it look more a prison than an arena, and you can hardly guess at why a crane towers over the walls.

"Hey guyth!" jitters Darryl, popping out from behind the limbo van.  He sips coffee from a styrofoam cup. "How did you sthleep?  I've been up an hour, sthcoping the competithion.  Who'th this?  I've never et a hobling before. Ha! I mean met a hobling.  Justh joking!  I'm Darryl.  Doeth anyone want thome coffee?"

[I'll post at lunch tomorrow if time permits.  In the meantime let me know if you have any reconnoitering you'd like to do]

Creature eyes scan the area for the following:

-any sign of the POlice

-any sign of grub

-any sign of Regina

Quote from: wulfgar;250789Creature eyes scan the area for the following:

-any sign of the POlice

-any sign of grub

-any sign of Regina

Creature doesn't see any fuzz, but the watch towers on the palisade are manned.  The only sign of Madam Regina is her offspring, previously noted.  

At the base of the palisade wall vendors hawk greasy carny food and Brawl memorabilia.

Buck stretches his arms and yawns, "Hey there, Daryl."...Buck is eyeballing the layout of this place.  Scoping out anything that looks like losers could be liquidated with: 3 headed giant cages, bloody holes in the ground, 35' plasma destructor ray cannons, etc.

Quazarn, Master of Magyks, is nervous.

Very nervous.

Quazarn is a warlock.  His is a higher art than that of these common...well, his is a higher art than fisticuffs.  Were this a wizards' duel, he'd be more in his element; if it were a popularity contest, he'd be a sure champion.  Yet this competition is one of brute force, and it is not therein that his strengths lie.

In other words, he's a wimp and he's scared.

All the same, he does his best to appear unperturbed.  He masks his insecurity under a veneer of concentration ("No, I'm sitting over here quietly and with closed eyes because I'm meditating", he is heard to say), but deep inside he is wondering to himself -- What have I got myself into?  Why did I agree to this?  Why am I even ON VANTH?!

His suffering is silent, his introspection in vain.  Soon the Brawl will commence --

-- and he, perhaps, will meet his end.

He asks the orcs to turn up "Baby Come Back" a little louder -- "Yes," he insists to them, "AGAIN."

I press the jewel on my cloak, turning my Hologram Clothes into an appropriate camoflague pattern, and no doubt earning a substantial bonus to Sneak and Hide.

That done, I ask Quazarn "so...what did you think of my idea?"

Buck notes Quazzie doing some serious meditation....he approaches, "Hold on to that magic stuff of yours....we may need it to get out of this mess!  Don't worry, bud, I'm not gonna be stupid enough to let you get killed...just be there to throw the heebie-jeebie in yer so good at to keep us from getting killed!"

Quote from: Rondo;250814Buck stretches his arms and yawns, "Hey there, Daryl."...Buck is eyeballing the layout of this place.  Scoping out anything that looks like losers could be liquidated with: 3 headed giant cages, bloody holes in the ground, 35' plasma destructor ray cannons, etc.

Most of the guards on the towers appear to be armed with modern crossbows.  A few carry wide-nozzled hoses strapped to canisters on their backs.  No other obvious threats, but you can see nothing of the arena itself.

Quote from: Dr Rotwang!;250844He asks the orcs to turn up "Baby Come Back" a little louder -- "Yes," he insists to them, "AGAIN."

"Gnuggh, bung away now!  We're off shift," snuffles the driver, punching in the soundcube for some kind of squealing orcish blues rock.

Quazarn has no chance to voice his disapproval, as the pork-rock, the din of the crowd and the yells of peanut vendors are drowned out by a blast of static and a bland voice announcing over a whining PA speaker, "ALL FIGHTERS, REPORT TO THE TUNNEL.  PLEASE HAVE YOUR INVITATIONS READY."  

"Don't worry, guyth," chirps Darryl tensely, "I got 'em right here.  Excthept for the hobling.  Isth he in the Brawl too?"

[Is he, indeed?  Does he plan to take his chances in the ring?  He can probably whinge an invitation from a scalper if he wishes.  

[You others, this is your chance for any last minute preps...]

Creature falls into line with the other brawlers headed towards the tunnel.  He stays close by Darryl, and slightly behind.  Eyes alert for any threat in the crowd.  

OOC:  If we're going to be Darryl's security detail, someone else should be sure stay in front, and to the flanks.  Maybe darryl's mom can hook us up with some secret service style earphones.

I look for anyone who might have an invitation I could steal (eg if it's in their back pocket).

[Roll Happenstance & we'll see]