Seeing their opponent distracted by the womenfolk, Mannath tried a sneaky punch to the side of the brute's head. However, his attack was clumsy and failed to connect. He had never been much of a brawler, and his abilities hadn't improved much over the years.

18:06, Today: Mannath rolled 12 using 2d6+6. Largo attack.
18:06, Today: Mannath rolled 8 using 2d6+3. Mannath attack.

Missed, no damage

Though things were slightly chaotic in the market place Elstarir stepped in to give the thug a solid thump on the side of the head


ooc;

19:48, Today: Elstarir rolled 15 using 2d6+8 - 4. Elstarir's punch 11

19:51, Today: Elstarir rolled 14 using 2d6+6. Largo dodges Elstarir's punch
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:00, Wed 20 Feb 2013.

Largo fights dirty, swinging his cudgel with abandon. His blow to Tarrian's head might have felled another opponent but thankfully the barbarian warrioress has a very thick skull.

---

OOC: LARGO THE SWIFT
SKILL 6 STAMINA 10

Armour: None
Attack: 1 2 2 2 3 3

Largo is once again targeting Tarrian.

Chadda keeps kicking!

23:17, Today: The Handmaiden rolled 11 using 2d6. Kick Largo.

This was getting ridiculous! Mannath stood back and bellowed at the surrounding crowd. "Citizens! Get back! For your own safety move away! And someone call for the guards!" that last comment shocked him, he wasn't used to requesting the services of a constable, having spent most of his life running away...

As the crowd (hopefully) moved back he carefully drew his sword and then shouted at his cudgel-wielding opponent. "You, thug! Drop your weapon or face the consequences!"

OOC - the idea is that as the crowd back off I will draw my sort carefully so no risk of an accident. I then challenge Largo. I am therefore not fighting this round.

Locked in a tight clinch, Tarrian and Largo lurch around unsteadily.  The thief hits her in the head again, but it doesn't seem to slacken her grip.  Her arms grope around his head and neck, manoeuvring him into a stranglehold.

Largo's face flushes bright red as she starts squeezing his neck.

OOC
Tarrian attack strength: 11
Largo attack strength: 9
Tarrian damage: 2

Largo loses 2 STAMINA!

Seeing Tarrian take the guy by the neck Elstarir stepped back to give her room as there were now too many of the group trying to take a swing at him

You can hear shouts in the distance and far off across the square you see a flash of red turbans. Plainly Mannath's cries are having an affect and the city guards are trying to force their way through the mob. Realising his plight Largo begins struggling violently to get free.

Vithrain: You help the fat merchant to his feet and he wipes his brow. "My gold! That scoundrel has my gold!" He seems more frightened than angry, obviously having had the fright of his life.

---

OOC: LARGO THE SWIFT
SKILL 6 STAMINA 10 8

Armour: None
Attack: 1 2 2 2 3 3

Largo is (increasingly desperately) trying to fight Tarrian. With Elstarir stepping back and Manath taking care to draw his dagger, Mannath now has room to use his dagger in combat.

Chadda keeps attacking bare-handed, just now.
Still with no great succes...

[18:07, Today: The Handmaiden rolled 8 using 2d6. Largo attacking our party (the Director will decide who is attacked).
18:06, Today: The Handmaiden rolled 6 using 2d6. Chadda attack to Largo. ]

Largo bashes Tarrian around her head and shoulders as the pair stagger and lurch around the market square.  Blood is pouring down her face and neck but the bitch won't let go!  Largo's face is flushed red and his expression is panicky and frightened.

Tarrian clings to her quarry, squeezing his neck with all her might.  She's seeing stars from the beating, but she can feel the strength ebbing out of the thief.  Just.  Hold.  On.  She knows he can't keep hitting her forever.

OOC
Tarrian attack strength: 13
Largo attack strength: 8
Tarrian damage: 1

Largo loses 1 STAMINA!

Keen to avoid entering the fray, Mannath brandished his sword, wielding it with the authority of the expert that he wasn't. He raised his voice still louder, hoping that the villain would see sense. I say again, thief! Surrender or I will run you through! Stop this nonsense NOW!"

Tarrian can sense Largo's strength waning under her assault; a street thug just doesn't have what it takes to wrestle off an angry barbarian herione. With bulging, panic stricken eyes he looks at Mannath and somehow gasps out: "Call her off! I yield!" He falls limp at the effort, his breath coming out in hoarse gasps after his near throtling.

Two turbaned guardsmen arrive and quickly haul the semi-concious Largo to his feet. You recognise the taller of the two as one of those who accompanied Jafar into the tower and he gives you a nod of recognition and respect. "You did well northeners," he says to you as he cuffs the thief on the back of his head, stifling Laro's groans. "This scum won't be bothering you again. Or anyone else come to that." His comrade laughs at that and the duo drag the luckless criminal off in the direction of the watch barracks.

The merchant waddles over, still moppining his round face free of sweat. Scooping up the purse Largo dropped he beams at you in delight. "A thousand thank yous my friends! Oh that after all the misfortunes this cursed city has given me that I should run into you is truly a sign from the gods themselves!" He enthusiastically takes Vithrain's hand and starts shaking. "I am Ignatius Galapogas, trader in exotic livestock to Baron Sukumvit himself." He looks very proud as he reveals this fact.

All of you have heard of Baron Sukumvit of the far northern city of Fang. Every year he holds the legendary Trial of Champions in which brave aventurers run through the lethal Deathtrap Dungeon in the hopes of surviving the traps and monsters to win a fortune in gold.

"Why do you think this city is cursed? is there anything so different from other cities? Did anything in particular happen to you, recently?"

"Alas! My ship was not docked a full day in this city when the dockers I hired to unload my cargo ran off with my prize possesion." Ignatius looks like he is about to burst into tears at relating his tale of woe but after dapping at his eyes with a silk hankerchief he is able to manfully carry on. "I had bought a Minotaur in far Shabak, but not just any Minotaur: this creature could breath poison gas through it's nostrils! By Orric it would have made my fortune and my name. But now... now..."

The fat merchant is quite overcome with emotion at the end of his hopes.

Patting his shoulder: "I don't understand... why did you unload it?"

As the guards dragged the thief away, Mannath sheathed his sword, a big grin on his face. He wasn't used to playing the hero, and it was kinda fun.

He listened as the fat merchant spoke. As the man explained his situation, Mannath blurted out, "A Minotaur! Why on earth would you bring it here! You must be crazy!"

Elstarir moved back to the group "Minotaur doesn't that sound like one of the clues and the statue we are looking for"

Chadda takes a mental note that somewhere in Kallamehr there is a Minotaur that can breath poison gas through its nostrils

Chadda whispers to Tarrian: "How are you? all OK?"

"I didn't unload the Minotaur!" Ignatius blubbers. "We were only supposed to unload a dozen fine Shabakian horses. The Minotaur was bound for far off Fang and Deathtrap Dungeon. I left the ship to dine with an old friend and when I returned the horses were gone alright, but the Minotaur with them."

"You are a really lucky man! You still have your ship, your life and your commercial talent!
If we happen to find your Minotaur, we'll let you know."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:37, Mon 04 Mar 2013.

Mannath muttered to himself. "If I happen to find it I'm running the other way..."

Vithrain had kept quiet until then, but now he simply said, "I've never seen a minotaur. I'd like to."

"Brother you'd like to stare a dragon in the eye given half the chance but it doesn't make it a great idea" then with a smile and a nudge "but then brother it would be interesting if nothing else"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:49, Mon 04 Mar 2013.

To Ignatius: "Can you describe us who stole your beast? We may bump into them in future, so we may be able to recognize them and do something..."