Quote from: Age of Fable;254856"Oh, hi Quazarn. You wanna help me rob the lockers?"

The conehead stares quizzically back at you.  Not even a faint glimmer of recognition lights his eyes.

[Sorry, Doc, rolled "01" for Mistaken ID, and Quazarn has no danged idea who this hobling copper is...]

"OK - imagine me with a cavalier's hat."

Perhaps half of the fighters who entered the Brawl are out of it by mid-day.  The goblin medics work steadily at hauling off the wounded, pausing only to scowl up at the twisted boom of the medevac crane.

Aside from a few misfits and wilders still going it alone, the remaining fighters have split into a few camps.  Runners jog from group to group, bringing challenges and insults from one boss fighter to another.  Late in the morning a group made up of klengon deserters launches a sudden raid on one of the other gangs, scattering the lesser fighters and routing their dwarfish chief.  The klengon leader wears a coward's brand but looks plenty fierce as he holds up the fallen dwarf's braids.

Neither runners nor raiders approach your group.  For now...

Creature motions one of the runners to come over.

"Tell...him...Momma...Fat..Ugly" Creature grunts to the runner as he points at the Klengon chieftain.  

(A momentary flash of what is hopefully intelligence has struck Creature's brain, as he figures it makes sense to fight the klengons while they're still tired from beating up on the dwarf's group.  That and Creatures is getting a bit bored standing around)

"Yeah!" Zarko adds. "I coulda stood around at home. I came here to fight!"

(Fortunately, I made my Unpleasant Order roll -- needed 70, got 67. Klengons are kinda scary...)

Buck wants to keep in there too.  Might as well; beats standing around.  "Hey, gang...wanna walk over and knock some dust off their hats?"...points at a group of motley knuckleheads that stand gawking at our group, disorganized as we are about what to do.

Quote from: wulfgar;255124Creature motions one of the runners to come over.

"Tell...him...Momma...Fat..Ugly" Creature grunts to the runner as he points at the Klengon chieftain.

Bob the Fighter, as modest and cheerful a fellow as you'd ever want to know, is quick to volunteer.  "Sure thing, boss, I'll tell him."

"Tell eem ees mom's so steepid she bleen-ked and geet lost," suggests Shifty.  "Yebs, so flabby she hoppled ib the pool and mabe a tibal wave," burbles the man-frog Leeplo.

Bob doesn't look like the sort to pull off yo mama jokes, but he jogs off dutifully to issue Creature's challenge.

Quote from: Rondo;255174Buck wants to keep in there too.  Might as well; beats standing around.  "Hey, gang...wanna walk over and knock some dust off their hats?"...points at a group of motley knuckleheads that stand gawking at our group, disorganized as we are about what to do.

[As noted most fighters have joined one of the various ad hoc groups.  Does Buck want to go looking for trouble with one of the unattached fighters wandering the arena (bunch of whackjobs and nutcases from what you can tell)?  Or will he stick around and back Creech against the klengons?]

(Creech and the Klengons....hey, that's a good band name!)

OOC: I'll be unavailable most of the day tomorrow; I have a funeral to go to. But I should be able to check in sometime tomorrow night. Carry on with the brawl without me.

[WHOA!  Sorry, guys -- 10/7 was my birthday, so that night was spent eating wings and watching Iron Man.  The breakroom computer was borked at work, and on 10/8 I was out late doing stand-up comedy.  Yes, I wore the tie.]

Quazarn eyes the hobling quizzically.  "Rob?  Lockers?  Hold on, now," he blurts out, "WHAT?!  Who are you?"  He casts a galnce back out into the arena and sees the battle groups forming.  "Oh, wait, now -- who are they?!"

He shakes his pointy head and his gills flutter with exasperation.  "I ought to be taking notes..."

[Doc: Happy Birthday!  How'd the stand-up go?]

[Coffee: No trouble.  Check in tomorrow night or over the weekend]

Bob the Fighter catches the klengons' attention with a jovial wave.  They fan around him a tense half circle as he approaches the leader, hand outstretched.  The klengon spits in his face, but unflappable Bob merely pulls a handkerchief from a vest pocket and wipes off the spittle.  

Bob speaks a few words, turning to point out Creature.  The klengon shoves him roughly aside, and one of the other klengons pins Bob's arms behind his back.  The klengon leader stalks back and forth amid his men, shouting unintelligibly.  While he paces he flexes his neck side to side and shakes his thin, puny arms.  He shakes his arms so hard, in fact, that they detach from his shoulders.  

Without hesitation one of his men kneels before him, arms outstretched.  A klengon grabs hold of each arm, pulling mightily till they too are detached, then traded to the leader.  Rearmed the leader flexes his brawny borrowed biceps, grabs a wicker shield and strides toward Creature's crew.  His squad flanks him, nine AWOL klengons in all, and Bob the fighter frog-marched ahead of them.

"I am Tumek the Heartless," barks the leader, slapping a jagged scar on his chest, the mark of a failed hegh'bat.  "You dare slander the mothers of the House Rannuf?  I will slay you where you stand!"

Yo..Momma...so...dumb..make..me..look..smart"

Intiative:1
Attack:91% HIT
Damage:13
Save:21% SAVE

[you're rolling d10 -missile damage for initiative, wulf?]

Yesiree.  I've got a big -4 for my modifier.