The Arena of Doom 1st Ed. Play by Post Game
- Thread starter Zhu Bajie
- Start date
phreedh
Member
"This is it. My quest ends here..." Kulza thinks, as the portcullis rise. Stepping out into the arena, his life briefly flashes before his eyes. Growing up in the small hold in the Worlds Edge mountains. Such a blissfull existence! Taking apprenticeship under the great engineers of his clan. What opportunities! His invention of the steam powered and fully automated beard braiding machine. The pride! Then, the unintentional and highly unfortunate de-bearding of the clan thane. What shame... Finally a blur of the ever since ongoing death quest. A quest to pay the ultimate price for bringing such shame over his house and clan name. Sweet oblivion.
Kulza the Shunned rubs his clean shaven chin, shrugs and says to himself "Oh well. It beats dying at sea!". Gripping his mighty hammer with both hands, he takes his first steps towards the imbecile celebrating at the centre of the arena. As he steps out he registers a strong animal odour in the warm breeze. "Dromedaries?" he asks aloud as the portcullis slams shut behind him.
Player : Phreedh
Name : Kulza the Shunned
Race : Dwarf
Alignment : Neutral
Social Status : House Serf
Age : 66
Sex : M
M : 3 1/2''
WS : 2
BS : 0
S : 2
T : C
W : 1
I : 3
A : 1
Ld : 0
Int : 10
Cl : 8
WP : 12
Money : C11
Weapons : 2-H Hammer, Hand Axe
Armour : Mail Armour
Skills : Tracker, Trapper, Captain
I have no idea if Ld and BS can be 0, but that's what I rolled. =) Poor guy!
Kulza the Shunned rubs his clean shaven chin, shrugs and says to himself "Oh well. It beats dying at sea!". Gripping his mighty hammer with both hands, he takes his first steps towards the imbecile celebrating at the centre of the arena. As he steps out he registers a strong animal odour in the warm breeze. "Dromedaries?" he asks aloud as the portcullis slams shut behind him.
Player : Phreedh
Name : Kulza the Shunned
Race : Dwarf
Alignment : Neutral
Social Status : House Serf
Age : 66
Sex : M
M : 3 1/2''
WS : 2
BS : 0
S : 2
T : C
W : 1
I : 3
A : 1
Ld : 0
Int : 10
Cl : 8
WP : 12
Money : C11
Weapons : 2-H Hammer, Hand Axe
Armour : Mail Armour
Skills : Tracker, Trapper, Captain
I have no idea if Ld and BS can be 0, but that's what I rolled. =) Poor guy!
Zhu Bajie
Member
Welcome aboard phreedh. I was going to suggest this eBay auction for a cheap set of 1E rulebooks, but you seem to be sorted now (not mine, but I also got boxless rulebooks for cheap!). Oh yeah, 0BS is fine. The random characters do seem to be terribly fragile.
Post match events
A gnomish scribe walks to the center of the arena. "Warning gladiators, complete temporal disruption approaching! Time is now the enemy...." as he looks around, time seems to slow, until the crowd are silent and have stopped moving around. "Oh dear, temporal disruption complete." he says. He walks over to the chalk-board, rubs out the name Korhil and writes Kulza on it.
All of a sudden a shopkeeper appears. He is a gnome of portly stature, dressed in a brown overcoat, and carrying a large sack. He walks over to Bryan and says "'ello, Ber Ber Ber Ber Ber Bryan, What can I do you for?" he says in a friendly yet somehow miserly way.
Post match events
A gnomish scribe walks to the center of the arena. "Warning gladiators, complete temporal disruption approaching! Time is now the enemy...." as he looks around, time seems to slow, until the crowd are silent and have stopped moving around. "Oh dear, temporal disruption complete." he says. He walks over to the chalk-board, rubs out the name Korhil and writes Kulza on it.
All of a sudden a shopkeeper appears. He is a gnome of portly stature, dressed in a brown overcoat, and carrying a large sack. He walks over to Bryan and says "'ello, Ber Ber Ber Ber Ber Bryan, What can I do you for?" he says in a friendly yet somehow miserly way.
DaImp
Member
Updating Korhil's character sheet... cos he is coming back!
Player: Da Imp
Name : Koril the dark
Race : Human
Alignment : Evil
Social Status : Freeman
Age : 37
Sex : M
M: 4
WS: 3
BS: 2
S: 2
T: B
W: 1
I: 3
A: 1
Ld: 2
Int: 3
Cl: 5
WP: 8
Money: C11
Weapons: 2 Handed Axe, Flaming Sword (magical)
Armour: Jacket, Trousers
Skills: Actor, Armourer
Notes: Korhil suffered a light injury to his left arm, and now may not use shield, bow or 2-handed weapons.
Total XP: 50
Player: Da Imp
Name : Koril the dark
Race : Human
Alignment : Evil
Social Status : Freeman
Age : 37
Sex : M
M: 4
WS: 3
BS: 2
S: 2
T: B
W: 1
I: 3
A: 1
Ld: 2
Int: 3
Cl: 5
WP: 8
Money: C11
Weapons: 2 Handed Axe, Flaming Sword (magical)
Armour: Jacket, Trousers
Skills: Actor, Armourer
Notes: Korhil suffered a light injury to his left arm, and now may not use shield, bow or 2-handed weapons.
Total XP: 50
Blue in VT
Moderator
weazil":eqmyic9h said:
Talk about LOL moment....haha....wives have a way of cutting to the Quick dont they?!
Fun game so far...whose next!?
Blue
phreedh
Member
That would be me. =)Blue in VT":3ptguw9x said:
Cheers Zhu, thanks for facilitating. I'm uncertain I need more boxes of games that I never play so I think I'll steer clear of 1st edition. 2nd and 3rd will have to do, but I do have a soft spot for 4th too as that was my entry point for Warhammer. Prior to that it was only Blood Bowl and role playing games.
Thantsants
Member
On hearing the voice behind him, Bryan whirls around putting on his best war face. This soon turns into a rather apologetic smile as he notices the object of his aggression is the small Gnome merchant who had mysteriously appeared with not even a fez in sight...
Somewhat confused at the apparent reference to one of the Barbarian tribes of his native Araby, Bryan asks
"What's that old man, Berbers - three of them? Where?!"
Slightly taken aback by the Gnome's withering stare and realising he may have inadvertently mocked the small chap's speech impediment, Bryan attempts to smooth things over,
"...erm got any beards...?"
"Ber, ber, ber, ber..."
"Nevermind. How much is this?"
Bryan reaches into the sack and holds up what looks to be some kind of monkey's foot charm - only with the rest of the monkey still attached.
"Gur, gur, gur, Grunfille - what are you doing with me sack?" cries the Gnome and his diminutive assistant scampers off out of Bryan's grasp, muttering some kind of lewd comment about his master's sack and a certain lady Gnome Apothecary.
The Gnome soon perks up however when Bryan resumes trading and resolutely refuses to haggle...
Eventually Bryan steps forward to present a faintly ridiculous figure weighed down by a veritable armoury of equipment hanging from various lanyards and belts about his slight frame.
Despite the comforting weight of his new weapons clattering about him, Bryan still nearly jumps out of his skin as the portcullis slams behind his new challenger - a strangely beardless Dwarf clutching what must surely be an oversized hammer for the poor little chap.
Somewhat confused at the apparent reference to one of the Barbarian tribes of his native Araby, Bryan asks
"What's that old man, Berbers - three of them? Where?!"
Slightly taken aback by the Gnome's withering stare and realising he may have inadvertently mocked the small chap's speech impediment, Bryan attempts to smooth things over,
"...erm got any beards...?"
"Ber, ber, ber, ber..."
"Nevermind. How much is this?"
Bryan reaches into the sack and holds up what looks to be some kind of monkey's foot charm - only with the rest of the monkey still attached.
"Gur, gur, gur, Grunfille - what are you doing with me sack?" cries the Gnome and his diminutive assistant scampers off out of Bryan's grasp, muttering some kind of lewd comment about his master's sack and a certain lady Gnome Apothecary.
The Gnome soon perks up however when Bryan resumes trading and resolutely refuses to haggle...
Eventually Bryan steps forward to present a faintly ridiculous figure weighed down by a veritable armoury of equipment hanging from various lanyards and belts about his slight frame.
Despite the comforting weight of his new weapons clattering about him, Bryan still nearly jumps out of his skin as the portcullis slams behind his new challenger - a strangely beardless Dwarf clutching what must surely be an oversized hammer for the poor little chap.
Zhu Bajie
Member
Kulza feels somewhat disorientated
Bryan feels somewhat disorientated.
A nightmare of stone slabs, spikes and skulls whirls around your heads, the very floor of the arena heaves and twists with some arcane force, the faces of the crowd around the arena blur and contort through alien shapes. An impossible number of parallel universes all fighting for supremacy. Suddenly the maelstrom stops, the dust settles in a darkened arena.
The crowd cheers.
Zhu Bajie
Member
Kulza Takes a few paces, muttering something about an "honourable death" and "scruffy looking animal herder".
Bryan Moves to his right, eying the floor suspiciously.
Both combatants have sight of each other.
A red splattered twilight sky can be seen through the immense sandstone columns surrounding the auditorium, the low blood coloured sun casting long shadows across the arena floor, where sand drifts lightly in the breeze. Figures in strange ceremonial garb and impossibly ornate armour are carved locked in twisting combat around the tall columns, perhaps heroes of myth from some ancient culture, or the records of long past arena champions, or may be even recountign a long forgotten war of the gods themselves. High above the combatants this battle scene extends onto an immense domed ceiling faded and cracked frescoes, mapping unknown constellations, hinting at some arcane drama of cosmic proportions being played out in the microcosm of the arena. Clouds of incense wafts down from brass censers hanging on thick chains down from the ceiling, filling the nostrils with a heady perfume the smell of sea-salt and sandlewood.
A gong strikes and the crowd settle down to a hushed anticipation, broken only by a distant cry of "Albatross!"
Thantsants
Member
Bryan sighs wistfuly at the sight of the setting sun and the sensation of cool sand between his sandalled toes. He could almost be back home if it weren't for the absence of the comforting and heavy scent of camel.
The weirdly decorated columns brought him back to Earth, or whatever temporal plane he had been whisked off to. Something about them disturbed him. A half remembered childhood nightmare surfaced in ther back of his mind - of him being borne aloft by strange winged figures, up and up. TYhe shrill and frantic braying of trumpets and a voice rose with him until it seemed he could bear it no longer.
And then the fall, an endless tumbling past great pillars of masonry, forever inches away from being dashed to pieces...
The gruff voice of his adversary brought him round from his reverie - funny how Dwarves looked even more ridiculous without a beard. Perhaps it was a girl?
All of a sudden Bryan had an unexplainable craving for a local delicacy - Gannet on a stick.
The weirdly decorated columns brought him back to Earth, or whatever temporal plane he had been whisked off to. Something about them disturbed him. A half remembered childhood nightmare surfaced in ther back of his mind - of him being borne aloft by strange winged figures, up and up. TYhe shrill and frantic braying of trumpets and a voice rose with him until it seemed he could bear it no longer.
And then the fall, an endless tumbling past great pillars of masonry, forever inches away from being dashed to pieces...
The gruff voice of his adversary brought him round from his reverie - funny how Dwarves looked even more ridiculous without a beard. Perhaps it was a girl?
All of a sudden Bryan had an unexplainable craving for a local delicacy - Gannet on a stick.
Zhu Bajie
Member
Kulza notices his opponents crossbow and looks around anxiously for cover as he heads into the arena.
Bryan scratches his head and looks quizzically at his crossbow, shrugs and moves towards his target.
Both combatants have sight of each other.
The breeze continues to gently blow pungent smoke and sand around the arena.
The crowd shift uncomfortably, there are a few listless shouts "shoot the stunty!" and "smack im wiv yoor ammer!".
Zhu Bajie
Member
Bryan anticipates his opponents move, takes aim and fires his crossbow
Kulza rushes to the cover of the pillar and as he does so suddenly feels a dull thud and a sharp pain - a crossbow bolt is protruding from his right shoulder
The fumes from the incense burners are getting thicker, as it collates like streaky fog across around the pillars.
The crowd cheer as Kulza is shot. Money changes hands. A small group of dwarves stand up and leave the arena, muttering oaths.
Zhu Bajie
Member
Bryan slings his crossbow and prepares his weapon
Kulza suddenly charges forward bellowing "Face an honourable death, big-nose!" but stumbles slightly on the rocky floor.
The crowd jump to their feet shouting and cheering, punching the air. A few try to start a "Lustrian-wave", but it doesn't take off.
Barely audible above the din of the crowd a mysterious gong is heard.
Thantsants
Member
I don't know what you mean Imp - it just went off in his hand. He was most apologetic afterwards! 
I'd love to see what a Lustrian wave looks like!
The gong sounds a bit ominous...
I'd love to see what a Lustrian wave looks like!
The gong sounds a bit ominous...
Zhu Bajie
Member
Bryan levels his polearm and charges at the Dwarf, screaming, "Your nose is gonna be three foot wide across your face by the time I finish with yooooouuu!" Bryan jabs forward with his halberd and hits Kulza straight in the chest!
Kulzacharges fiercely straight towards his enemy, weapon at the ready and swinging his axe and just misses Brians conk. Bryans pole-arm pokes him in the chest, but with such a feeble effort the dwarf barely registers he's been hit.
The crowd cheers suddenly as if they have woken from a long sleep. The pungent smoke from the censers has settled at floor level, creating a grey-white blanket that hides the contestants feet.
Zhu Bajie
Member
Bryan hefts the halberd and smacks Kulza across the head, but it bounces off his opponents rock hard skull.
Kulza goes for Bryans knees but misses by a hair.
The crowd applaud the combatants and cheer wildly at the cut and thrust. A distant cry of "demons in the mist" causes some old ladies in the front row to drop their knitting and run off in a panic. A deep sonorous bell tolls once.