The Thirteen Moons of Shamballa (in-character thread)

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OOC: Sorry for the delay; I am doing a lot of OT this week and don't want to half-ass the PBP by posting an update without reading everything and making whatever rolls are needed.
 
"I agree with Spisarevski. Escape is what we want." Major Hunter replies, carefully studying Arrugado for any sign of deception.
His face seems plain and honest, but perhaps a Perception roll would tell you more!
 
His face seems plain and honest, but perhaps a Perception roll would tell you more!
OOC: My character doesn't trust the guy even IC and believes he wants to use us as his cannon fodder to make good on his escape. So we're going to stick close to him and if he can hide, so can we:thumbsup:.
 
Assuming everyone then goes to sleep...

You awaken to the shock of an electric prod not unlike those used by ranchers on their cattle. The prods are wielded by blue ape legionnaires rousting the gladiators from their dreaming, and you can't help but notice they seem to be gentler with your boon companion Gilipollas than with the rest of you. Buttersocks, in particular, seems to be having a bad morning as two of the ape-men double team him with their version of Réveillé and laugh fiendishly as he weeps and moans and jumps and shimmies to try to avoid further shocks.
PROD.jpg
If you make any move or gesture that might be read as intention to intervene, you see Arrugado glower at you with a look that clearly says not to interfere. Soon your recent acquaintance the Slave Lord of Shamballa enters the gladiators' barracks and the blue apes cease their sadistic sport, leaving Buttersocks to collapse to the floor between the bunks.
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"Does the sub-man yet live?" says the Slave Lord as his lips curl into a contemptuous sneer. "Very well. We shall see how he fares in the arena. Are there any of you who would prefer I kill you now and spare you the humiliation of death before an audience of your superiors?" Feoduro and the other gladiators tense and take great pains to remain still and quiet.
 
Spisarevski first smiles at the gnome's misfortune. His smile disappears at the second shock, and he only restrains himself by an effort of will, and by looking in Arrugado's eyes.
But he looks back, and makes sure the gladiator knows he's only restraining himself because of his promise.

After which, of course, he makes sure to be standing very still and quiet as well.
 
Everyone in the house has been taking turns getting sick this week, but I'm going to try to update all the PBPs tonight and/tomorrow. Sorry for the wait.
 
The Slave Lord of Shamballa haughtily turns his back on you as the door at the far end of the gladiators' quarters slides open, automatically parting at the middle in response to what you take to be some kind of subsonic signal emitted by a whistle-like instrument the Slave Lord placed to his lips a moment earlier.

With blue ape legionnaires at the front and back of them, the other gladiators file into two ranks without any compulsion, as though long used to the routine, and begin to march forward out of the chamber. Arrugado steps into rank beside Feoduro just ahead of Hunter and Spisarevski and behind Sinbar and Gilipollas and whispers loudly enough for all four of you to hear, "Our moment comes soon." Fortunately the sound of marching feet makes you confident no one else would likely have heard him--assuming his cryptic message would hold any meaning even if it were overheard.

You don't see Buttersocks anywhere around as you enter a well-lit descending corridor just wide enough for two men to stand abreast, but it's easily possible he's hidden from view by the ranks ahead of you.

I'll update where you're being led to, but first wanted to give you the opportunity to act or speak if you so choose before you arrive there.
 
OOC: That won't do. Spisarevski said he won't lose the gnome from his eyes, and he won't do that. And of course, he would first make sure the small one is as fine as he could be after the jolts.
 
OOC: That won't do. Spisarevski said he won't lose the gnome from his eyes, and he won't do that. And of course, he would first make sure the small one is as fine as he could be after the jolts.
:shock: Sorry, it's been so long I forgot about your statement about watching Buttersocks. So...

Just when you fear the worst, you catch sight of Buttersocks half-marching, half-being pushed three ranks ahead of you. Though you can't hear his words, when you get a glimpse of his face in profile it's obvious he is grumbling about his circumstances and casting aspersions upon those he blames for his present predicament. He looks back at you briefly and narrows his eyes with a look of hostility and vexation. It occurs to you that it may very well be you that he is grousing about and denigrating.
 
OOC: The little ingrateful flea!

IC: Spisarevski followed with a lighter heart. At the same time, he was noting the number and position of the guards and the locations of possible weapons...including the guards' own guns and shockers.
 
OOC: Major Hunter will also keep Buttersocks in sight, while staying alert for any treachery at the hands of their "fellow escapees."
 
The blue ape legionnaires who escort you are arrayed at the front and rear of the assembled gladiators. Each is attentive, vigilantly eyeing the unarmed men they chaperone and each is armed with a raygun as well as a gladius.

You find the corridor leads down at a slight grade and opens out onto a vast courtyard--on second thought you'd describe it more as a bullring or an arena. The ground is covered with fine sand and the stands are filled with a sizeable audience of spectators who erupt into thunderous cheers upon the appearance of the Slave Lord and the first gladiators to emerge into the light.
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Rather like this!
As the rest of you file out onto the sand, the blue ape legionnaires spread themselves out behind you, between the gladiators and the entrance/exit from which you emerged. At the center of the arena you see what appear to be an even dozen wheelless bicycle-like vehicles that levitate approximately two feet above the sand!
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Rather like this!
In a box seat high above the far end of the arena, you see Emperor Malvolio and Professor Prospero seated on either side of your recent acquaintance...Desideria!
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Rather like this!

Servitor-1, however, is nowhere in sight. It dawns on you now that you vaguely recall your boon companion Gilipollas having once referred to her as a princess, though it seems so long ago and at the time you were more absorbed in his instructions on operating rayguns.
"My word," says Gilipollas, "I'm starting to believe you are from some undiscovered moon as the princess said!"
Additionally, you see your fellow Earthman Dr. Klingermann seated just behind and to the left of Professor Prospero, looking dazed and sleepy, as though awake but heavily sedated. A contingent of heavily armed blue ape legionnaires stand attentively behind the dignitaries in the box seat, their rayguns at the ready and their eyes watching the crowd, the arena, and the sky.
 
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Spisarevski looks at the Earthman and the princess, and then turns towards Hunter.
"Seems like the emperor has got himself a nice pair of guests that might have preferred being elsewhere", he whispered.
Then he looked at the gladiator. Somehow, the sight of Desideria close to His Tawdriness made him willing to shed some blood. Though outwardly, he merely smiled.
Of course, the antropologist knew, in primates a smile is a threatening gesture...
Well, he was kinda understanding why, now!
 
"I have no idea, Major", Spisarevski said, gritting his teeth.
"But there is some unfinished business, here".
 
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