The Thirteen Moons of Shamballa (in-character thread)

Dumarest

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After your ablutions, you are led by a gaunt, loinclothed servant down a passageway into a banquet hall in which a long wooden table replete with delicacies of colorful, fragrant fruits and roast meats. On either side of the table is a series of benches and place settings for the gathered athletes. Buxom, scantily clad feminine attendants await with pitchers of beer and jugs of wine. At the far end of the banquet hall there are two archways leading to who-knows-where. The gaunt servant motions for each of you to take a seat at the table.

"We eat!" says Carapuerco. He and Enormuevos sit across from each at the far end of the table as about a dozen more gladiators file into the room.
 

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Major Hunter scans the room. Are there any guards present? What type of eating utensils are provided? He will motion Spisarevski, Gilipollas, and Sinbar to sit with him at the other end of the table, trying to keep as far away from the other gladiators as possible. Once all are seated together he will ask in a quiet voice, while pretending to eat, "Well chaps? Any suggestions on how we go about escaping?"
 

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"During the games would be best. Or maybe we should score a win or two first", Spisarevski offers.
"New arrivals are probably watched more closely than veterans."
 

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Major Hunter scans the room. Are there any guards present? What type of eating utensils are provided? He will motion Spisarevski, Gilipollas, and Sinbar to sit with him at the other end of the table, trying to keep as far away from the other gladiators as possible. Once all are seated together he will ask in a quiet voice, while pretending to eat, "Well chaps? Any suggestions on how we go about escaping?"
There are no guards in the banquet hall. Also no utensils. Just mounds of food. You note the others are all eating with their hands. The benches are soon filled by gladiators so you would need to speak in low tones of you hope not to be overheard. Fortunately they eat loudly, rowdily, and loquaciously and pay little or no attention to your group.

"Snubbing me after all I've done for you?!" sputters Buttersocks after you leave him out of your group. "Fine! I'll just sit over here--"--he attempts to sit by Carapuerco but is brushed away by a large swarthy fighter. "I didn't want that seat anyway!" He then tried to sit on the other side but is again pushed away by a larger man. "Suits me! I wanted to sit in this corner by the wall anyway!" he says as he sits cross-legged on the floor with a bright purple fruit in one hand and the roast leg of a beast in the other.
"During the games would be best. Or maybe we should score a win or two first", Spisarevski offers.
"New arrivals are probably watched more closely than veterans."
A large green-mottled man with pointed ears, gang-like teeth, and tuberous growths on his nose sprouting long, curly hairs overhears at least part of Spisarevski's remarks and says, "Ha! You think to win? You are weaklings! You will never best me, for I am Feoduro and I eat newcomers as a snack between meals!"
 

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"Friend Buttersocks. Please, I beg your pardon. I meant no offense, nor did I intend to offer slight. You are a boon companion, and have earned a place at the table as much as any of us. Come sit by me, there's plenty of room."
 

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OOC: Major Hunter will continue to eat, but keep a discrete eye of this braggart, and should Spisarevski be in danger he will intervene, and help his friend.
 

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A large green-mottled man with pointed ears, gang-like teeth, and tuberous growths on his nose sprouting long, curly hairs overhears at least part of Spisarevski's remarks and says, "Ha! You think to win? You are weaklings! You will never best me, for I am Feoduro and I eat newcomers as a snack between meals!"
Spisarevski leaves the explaining to the guy with aristocratic heritage, and turns to look at the big man. Obviously, the "reception committee" is gathering...
"You think you can defeat me?", the Earthling smiles wolfishly. "Talk is great when there are guards to stop a tussle. But if and when we meet on the arena, it's not likely to be enough!"
 

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There are no guards in the banquet hall. Also no utensils. Just mounds of food. You note the others are all eating with their hands. The benches are soon filled by gladiators so you would need to speak in low tones of you hope not to be overheard. Fortunately they eat loudly, rowdily, and loquaciously and pay little or no attention to your group.

"Snubbing me after all I've done for you?!" sputters Buttersocks after you leave him out of your group. "Fine! I'll just sit over here--"--he attempts to sit by Carapuerco but is brushed away by a large swarthy fighter. "I didn't want that seat anyway!" He then tried to sit on the other side but is again pushed away by a larger man. "Suits me! I wanted to sit in this corner by the wall anyway!" he says as he sits cross-legged on the floor with a bright purple fruit in one hand and the roast leg of a beast in the other.

A large green-mottled man with pointed ears, gang-like teeth, and tuberous growths on his nose sprouting long, curly hairs overhears at least part of Spisarevski's remarks and says, "Ha! You think to win? You are weaklings! You will never best me, for I am Feoduro and I eat newcomers as a snack between meals!"
"Friend Buttersocks. Please, I beg your pardon. I meant no offense, nor did I intend to offer slight. You are a boon companion, and have earned a place at the table as much as any of us. Come sit by me, there's plenty of room."
Buttersocks looks up, fruit juices dripping down his beard, and says, "I don't need you! I can get by on my own!" Then he carries his food over to sit at your end of the table and says, "Your friend Spisarevski is always trying to start fights--it's a good thing we're here to save him!"
Spisarevski leaves the explaining to the guy with aristocratic heritage, and turns to look at the big man. Obviously, the "reception committee" is gathering...
"You think you can defeat me?", the Earthling smiles wolfishly. "Talk is great when there are guards to stop a tussle. But if and when we meet on the arena, it's not likely to be enough!"
"I laugh at your words," says Feoduro as he stands to his full eight-foot height and looks down at you, "but you have balls so I will not kill you today! Have you joined a gang yet? You will not be able to survive training without the support of a gang. There is always someone ready to knife your back. Two evenings ago my friend Narizgorda was assassinated in his sleep by a rival gang."
 

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Buttersocks looks up, fruit juices dripping down his beard, and says, "I don't need you! I can get by on my own!" Then he carries his food over to sit at your end of the table and says, "Your friend Spisarevski is always trying to start fights--it's a good thing we're here to save him!"

"I laugh at your words," says Feoduro as he stands to his full eight-foot height and looks down at you, "but you have balls so I will not kill you today! Have you joined a gang yet? You will not be able to survive training without the support of a gang. There is always someone ready to knife your back. Two evenings ago my friend Narizgorda was assassinated in his sleep by a rival gang."
Spisarevski considered the idea. From one hand, a rival gang...that meant that joining one would make you a prime target for all the rivals.
Not joining would make you a free - though hopefully not prime - target for all gangs...as well as everyone else.
In the end, he mused, joining a gang only means that the other members wouldn't try to assassinate you. Probably.
"Not yet, but we'll consider yours!", he assured him Feoduro politely. "As an old hand here, could you enlighten us which are the major gangs, and who are they leaders?"
 

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Major Hunter continues his meal and watches the interaction between Spisarevski and the hulking Feoduro. He is considering who might be the best option to form an alliance with.
 

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Spisarevski considered the idea. From one hand, a rival gang...that meant that joining one would make you a prime target for all the rivals.
Not joining would make you a free - though hopefully not prime - target for all gangs...as well as everyone else.
In the end, he mused, joining a gang only means that the other members wouldn't try to assassinate you. Probably.
"Not yet, but we'll consider yours!", he assured him Feoduro politely. "As an old hand here, could you enlighten us which are the major gangs, and who are they leaders?"
"You should eat," replies Feoduro. "You and your friends look like ragamuffins from the undercity of Shamballa!"

Gilipollas and Sinbar are focused on eating as much as they possibly can, seemingly as quickly as they can.
Major Hunter continues his meal and watches the interaction between Spisarevski and the hulking Feoduro. He is considering who might be the best option to form an alliance with.
Feoduro skeptically arches an eyebrow and says, "I have nothing to lose by telling you of the gangs. My gang, the Pretty Boys, is the strongest. We crush the gonads of any who dare oppose us. All other gangs are weak and run by addlepated fools like Enormuevos. I piss on him!"

"Yeah! Piss on Enormuevos!" gleefully shouts Buttersocks. "Piss on Enormuevos! He's an apple-dated fool!"
 

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Spisarevski eats, not wasting time. He simply takes a mental note that the locals are balls-focused...or obsessed?
So it's probably better to attack them in the thighs in case of a brawl, instead of going straight for a nut-crush.

"Do gangs uear any sans?"
He swallows and repeats.
"Do gangs have any signs? Or do you have to remember who's with which gang?"
 

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"Steady on old Buttersocks. Let's not unnecessarily provoke people." Warns Major Hunter.
"They started it," sulks Buttersocks with arms crossed.
Spisarevski eats, not wasting time. He simply takes a mental note that the locals are balls-focused...or obsessed?
So it's probably better to attack them in the thighs in case of a brawl, instead of going straight for a nut-crush.

"Do gangs uear any sans?"
He swallows and repeats.
"Do gangs have any signs? Or do you have to remember who's with which gang?"
Feoduro pulls his loincloth down and to one side to demonstrate a tattoo on his right buttock. It seems to be a highly stylized representation of a male and a female copulating, in which the male is decidedly effeminate and the female is quite masculine. "The mark of the Pretty Boys," says Feoduro with pride. " You'll know who belongs to a gang by his mark. Next time we are in the baths, pay close attention to the other fighters' asses. Now eat, for soon they will escort us to our chambers."
 
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Spisarevski almost chokes on the food.
"To observe men's asses? Heavens, no! I wouldn't want such a misunderstanding!", he observes, while stuffing himself with whatever meat and bread are available.
 

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Was there anything either of you wanted to do before you are taken to your accommodations?
 

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OOC: Nothing but feed, water, and gather as much info as the ones around are willing to provide...and that doesn't involve looking at men's asses :grin:!
 

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Presently a group of slender eunuchs escorts you down a corridor to what any military man would recognize as barracks. A walkway runs the length of the large chamber and on either side there are a dozen bunk beds, though larger than what you would see in any military accommodations back home. The beds are king size and look plushly appointed and comfortable. There is a pair of footlockers before each bed, obviously for the use of each gladiator. The other men casually move to their respective bunks and chat among themselves. At the very far end of the room is a locked metal door. Just before the locked metal door are four unoccupied beds, one bunk on either side of the aisle.

Buttersocks conspicuously looks at Hunter, Spisarevski, Sibar, and Gilipollas, and counts on the fingers of one hand. Arriving at the sum of five, immediately begins to dash down the aisle shouting, "Oh no! OH NO! I'm not sleeping on the floor!"
 

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Spisarevski looks at the footlockers next to their beds. Are they flat enough to put the gnome to sleep on top of two of them, maybe with some blankets? If not, they'd need to request a bed from one of the eunuchs.
 

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Spisarevski looks at the footlockers next to their beds. Are they flat enough to put the gnome to sleep on top of two of them, maybe with some blankets? If not, they'd need to request a bed from one of the eunuchs.
Unfortunately not. They resemble this:
monserrat-round-top-treasure-trunk.jpg
 

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Unfortunately not. They resemble this:
After determining it wouldn't work, Spisarevski waves at one of the eunuchs.
"Hey there, friend. Can we get a smaller bed for our friend here, as well?", he asks, pointing at the gnome. "He might be small, but his kitchen skills are not to be underestimated!"
 

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After determining it wouldn't work, Spisarevski waves at one of the eunuchs.
"Hey there, friend. Can we get a smaller bed for our friend here, as well?", he asks, pointing at the gnome. "He might be small, but his kitchen skills are not to be underestimated!"
An especially tall and slender eunuch turns a cold eye on Spisarevski and makes a hand gesture you can only assume is negatory, if not outright rude, before he walks out of the room without a word. Meanwhile, as Spisarevski was endeavoring to acquire a bed for his little friend, Buttersocks, Gilipollas, and Sinbar claim three of the four bunks. One bunk remains for Hunter and Spisarevski.
 

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"Hmm", Spisarevski wonders. "It makes sense to make the smaller guy double up with one of us. But then I'm not sure if it wouldn't be safer for our Earthlinh derrieres to sleep next to each other... the locals are showing a tendency towards a significant degree of behaving without accounting for notions of sin. What says you, Major?"
 

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Shoot! I am still here. Sorry about that. I had planned to catch up this weekend.
 

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"Buttersocks, old bean. That trunk would make a lovely bed for you. Lets open the lid and you'll be snug as a bug in a rug once your inside. Now as we say in the Regiment -'Shift it!' " Major Hunter says as he lays down in the empty bunk. "Besides, you can't expect Spisarevski to sleep on the floor, or in the trunk? Can you?"
 

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"Buttersocks, old bean. That trunk would make a lovely bed for you. Lets open the lid and you'll be snug as a bug in a rug once your inside. Now as we say in the Regiment -'Shift it!' " Major Hunter says as he lays down in the empty bunk. "Besides, you can't expect Spisarevski to sleep on the floor, or in the trunk? Can you?"
"Why in the thirteen moons should I give up my bed just because you dunderheads didn't have the wherewithal to grab one?" accuses Buttersocks as he points at both of you.

Feoduro backs him up: "We have a saying here, perhaps it will clarify his point: 'finders keepers, losers weepers.'"

Sinbar adds, "I have heard this saying, and it is wise."

Gilipollas says, "Perhaps you two should fight for the remaining bed if you cannot bear each other's company."

Feoduro nods and says, "Yes, I would like to see how you fight."
 

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"Why in the thirteen moons should I give up my bed just because you dunderheads didn't have the wherewithal to grab one?" accuses Buttersocks as he points at both of you.

Feoduro backs him up: "We have a saying here, perhaps it will clarify his point: 'finders keepers, losers weepers.'"

Sinbar adds, "I have heard this saying, and it is wise."

Gilipollas says, "Perhaps you two should fight for the remaining bed if you cannot bear each other's company."

Feoduro nods and says, "Yes, I would like to see how you fight."
"Most certainly a wise proverb. We have a similar rule as well", Spisarevski agreed. But the gnome was starting to get on his nerves...
Still, the Earthman kept smiling.
"No doubt, that would be a wise rule to apply later as well, on the arena. You know, when each of us would need to pick an opponent to fight. Not only that, we should probably let the mighty forest lord over there have first pick from the other team! I mean, fair is fair, right?"
 

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"Most certainly a wise proverb. We have a similar rule as well", Spisarevski agreed. But the gnome was starting to get on his nerves...
Still, the Earthman kept smiling.
"No doubt, that would be a wise rule to apply later as well, on the arena. You know, when each of us would need to pick an opponent to fight. Not only that, we should probably let the mighty forest lord over there have first pick from the other team! I mean, fair is fair, right?"
"You're trying to use words to trick me!" sniffs Buttersocks. "The big protecting the small has nothing to do with the small giving up beds to sleep in footlockers! You big bully!"
 

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I should point out, Spisarevski could make a roll using an appropriate Perception skill if he wants to try to persuade the others in the room, and perhaps Buttersocks as well.
 

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"Most certainly a wise proverb. We have a similar rule as well", Spisarevski agreed. But the gnome was starting to get on his nerves...
Still, the Earthman kept smiling.
"No doubt, that would be a wise rule to apply later as well, on the arena. You know, when each of us would need to pick an opponent to fight. Not only that, we should probably let the mighty forest lord over there have first pick from the other team! I mean, fair is fair, right?"
"Hear! Hear! Spisarevski. Don't take any guff from that little rascal." Major Hunter says as he dozes off confident that Spisarevski will sort out the whole mess amicably, or at least beneficially for him.
 

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"You're trying to use words to trick me!" sniffs Buttersocks. "The big protecting the small has nothing to do with the small giving up beds to sleep in footlockers! You big bully!"
"The bigger ones should protect the smaller because the smaller ones can't, you mean. Like the case where the smaller ones can sleep in a space where the bigger ones can't fit?"

I should point out, Spisarevski could make a roll using an appropriate Perception skill if he wants to try to persuade the others in the room, and perhaps Buttersocks as well.
Why spoil the nice dialogue with dice:grin:?
Besides, I'm sure if the chest was too small for the gnome you would have mentioned it already...right:devil:? I mean, it's not like I can see the chest that was described, and the picture can be at any size.
 

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"The bigger ones should protect the smaller because the smaller ones can't, you mean. Like the case where the smaller ones can sleep in a space where the bigger ones can't fit?"


Why spoil the nice dialogue with dice:grin:?
Besides, I'm sure if the chest was too small for the gnome you would have mentioned it already...right:devil:? I mean, it's not like I can see the chest that was described, and the picture can be at any size.
Buttersocks jams a thumb in each ear, closes his eyes, and starts to loudly proclaim in a sing-song voice, "Words words words! I'm not listening! Can't even see you!"

Buttersocks could fit on or even in the footlocker, which is about three feet across and eighteen inches deep.
 
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Spisarevski shrugs, shakes his head silently, and opens his footlocker - the one next to the bed with a gnome on it - and checks what's inside.

OOC: Are there spare sheets? I didn't find a mention, but there usually are, when I picture a bed. Or there might be in the locker, I guess.
 

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Opening the airtight footlocker, Spisarevski is blasted by the overpowering stench of urine and dried fecal matter emanating from badly soiled sheets scrunched up inside the footlocker. You can't see what lies beneath the spare set of bedsheets unless you want to move the soiled ones out of the footlocker.

"By the fiery eruptions of Volcana, what is that?!" exclaims Sinbar, whose leonine olfactory glands suffer even more than the human Spisarevski despite the difference in proximity.

@AsenRG: Is Spisarevski going to use the spare set of sheets and sleep on the floor, or will you steal the cleaner sheets from Buttersocks as you mentioned?
 

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Spisarevski slammed the footlocker, making a face.
"Arrgh, I think those are the gnome's covers", he answered honestly. Then he grabbed the sheeths from the bed and, repeating a trick that people liked to demonstrate in the drinking places of Sofia, pulled them from under the gnome.
Well, usually people demonstrate that by pulling out the table cloth without toppling the bottles and glasses. The heavier those are, the easier the trick is considered to be.
So it should be kids' play with a whole gnome on top of them...

OOC: Since it seems the gnome hasn't covered himself, Spisarevski has to pull them out from under him:thumbsup:.
 
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