The Goblins Fan Forum

I've realized that dragonborn breath in this layout means I could probably murder whoever is across from me... Since it recharges on short rest, over the course of a few hours they could be whittled down if no one intervened.

((Who is in the cages near Viskek? Can he see Bort?))

((Yeah, can Bort say hi to the "nice green guy"? ))

In one of the adjacent cells, a stout, black-haired dwarf pores over what initially looks to be a collection of loose, ratty papers. It's only as the others are guided back to their cells that he bothers to look up, glancing across at one of his fellow prisoners disinterestedly before turning his attention back to the papers.

Viskek limps his way back to his cell, breathing heavily, but otherwise trying to walk as proudly as he can, the hound's tooth clenched tightly in his fist. Once back in his cell, he prods gingerly at his bruises and cuts, and growls.

When he hears someone talking about escaping, he keeps his mouth shut and tries to ignore them, instead looking across the hallway to see if Bort is there.

"Bort? Are you still alive?"

His own cell. Karn is pleased to have graduated from the nearby slave pen where he grew up.

As one passes the other's cell, Karn nods to Viskek; the half-orc's perseverance has earned him a measure of respect.

Karn does what he can to rinse out the dog bite.

Viskek returns the greeting. Karn seems strong. Another survivor perhaps.

"Hmm... Oh- Hi, nice green man! You much nicer than other people... Dogs too. Don't get it- Puppies nice, yes? But Bort fine. Just itches." Bort says, pecking with some manner of obsessiveness at his wounds.

Martin continues to moan and beweep his poor lost doggy while otherwise making an ungodly amount of noise by banging on his cell door. "Why have they done this...why?!"

Viskek grins when Bort replies.

"You did good up there Bort! Get some rest if you can. We're going to be back in that arena soon, and we'll have to fight again. We might fare better if we work together up there. All of us."

He says the last part loudly enough for his voice to carry to the other cells.

"We all want to live. In this place, only the strong will last. We have survived today. We will survive tomorrow. We will last."

"The streets?" Martin asks, "The streets sound like a wonderful place to be, other than all that damned sunlight, agh, ghastly stuff, stings my poor eyes. No, they dragged me out of one pit and now I find myself in another." Martin hangs his hand.

"I am called Karn. I was raised here. I was born for this. Do what you will, but I intend to become the champion. I will fight well, and with honor. I will make it a good show, and I will achieve glory. But the orc has the right of it. Today, we survived. For tomorrow, we must be strong. Tougher battles lie ahead."

Retroactively: As they are led out of the arena, Karn greets the boys by name. Some of them are old friends. He grins, having won his first arena bout, and expects at least a couple of the boys to follow suit someday.

"You came here by choice? Hah! Why?!"

"My master purchased my egg. I know nothing of my parents. I've never set foot outside the arena complex. I've been raised in the slave pens here, training to become a gladiator. Being sent to slaughter dogs and fodder is insulting, but I suppose everyone must start somewhere. Hopefully tomorrow will bring a worthy and honorable challenge. With weapons better than the toy swords they sell to children in the stands. "

Viskek takes his time to mull over the dragonborn's words.

"You are right and wrong, friend. You are right that it is an insult to fight caged creatures inside a cage. You are wrong to hope that this this arena will ever provide an honorable battle. There is only death here. Not honour. Honour is found in the great wildernesses of the world where you may meet the great creatures of the world in their own element. To defeat a beast in its prime, in its own territory... That is an honour! Not some creature that has already been defeated and brought to die for show."

"You seem quite certain in your virtues." A low voice rumbles from the dwarf's cell. Not taking his eyes off his papers, he continues, "But then, are you one to tell him what is right and wrong? When the masters of the arena pit you against him, tell me: will you still stay true to what you have said today? Or will you value your own survival over his? Did you not put yourself above others to make it back to your cell?"

"You all talk too much." is Bort's only reply as he seems stuck somewhere between not understanding what's going on, and being bored- As he turns to pecking at his wounds again, in what now are definitely going to become scars.

Not being a stupid man.. Martin realized the need for allies and the one named Bort could be a good companion albeit not the brightest of ones.
"Bort, am Martin, where you from. " it pained him to talk on his level... But survival demanded sacrifices.

Nioca wrote:"You seem quite certain in your virtues." A low voice rumbles from the dwarf's cell. Not taking his eyes off his papers, he continues, "But then, are you one to tell him what is right and wrong? When the masters of the arena pit you against him, tell me: will you still stay true to what you have said today? Or will you value your own survival over his? Did you not put yourself above others to make it back to your cell?"

Viskek smiles.

"There is no honour in a pointless death either. All life lives to survive. But perhaps there is honour to be found in facing one who was born to the arena. We shall see.

But I do not recognise your voice, friend. Were you in the arena today?"

"Then we shall see what tomorrow brings us all. I hope the fates continue to smile upon us."

Viskek goes back to contemplating his state of affairs and listening to the others talk. He'll eat if there's food, and otherwise will rest as well as he can.

Martin rubbed his chin, this big dumb oaf might actually be useful. "Yes, yes, I saw you juggle your wooden daggers right into the doggy's, quite impressive. I was quite happy that the two headed one wasn't my snuffles." Martin took the side of caution on telling anyone he had murdered one of the commoners by stabbing them in the back, information probably left for another time, perhaps in a few days from now when they could all look back on the first day..and laugh about it. Martin started laughing about it now, but quickly calmed himself. He looked around suspiciously to see if anyone had heard his thoughts and then started thinking in goblin to ward off any mind-readers.