Husband of Aubree Lamay@Ellion and Adorabella Orchard@eclecticwitch Interacting with Aubree and Adorabella
Kagan glares down at Adorabella, not sure what to make of her. For one, she was small. Almost comically so, and he found him questioning if she was even of age for the Choosing. She likely was, the Prince being many things but a pederast wasn't one of them (as far as he knew and hoped anyway.) He takes the note Adorabella hands him, gently flicking the wax seal out of his way to read. "Seems that the Prince has taken some small interest in my work." He says, reading what little contents it held.
"Adorabella..." His face scrunches at the name before his continues. "Along with being the victim of the most negligent parental naming conventions in history is an advance of sorts. I can only assume we'll get the other half of her once we do whatever little request he might have. Or we could just return her." He continues, tossing the note into the small fire beneath the bath. He hadn't the energy to conduct an interrogation on the smaller gem like he had for Aubree just yet, so that could to wait till morning.
The fact she took it upon herself to raid his rooms wine did not exactly speak well to her obedience, nor was he particularly thrilled the previously well mannered Aubree seemed to have followed her lead and was half a glass deep already. But right now, they were obedient enough to not try and run away, and a drink didn't sound like a terrible idea. He walks over, grabbing the bottle and Adora's now empty glass, filling it generously. "Regardless, I see no reason kick her out of bed so to speak. Gift horses and such." he grumbles, downing the wine rather quickly, ignoring the taste of something other than wine on the lip of the glass.
"For now, I'd rather worry about other things." he says, topping his own glass off before doing the same to Aubree's. He leans in slightly, whispering into the girls ear. "Try and pace yourself. As I understand it, being drunk generally makes it worse, not better. For first timers specifically." He says, quietly before backing away.
Setting the bottle down on the table, he takes a seat on a furred couch, beckoning the two brides to join them with a small gesture of his glass. He still felt a little cold, but he...needed some time for the wine to kick in before jumping into making proper use of his brides. "So...Tell me about yourselves." He says, taking a bored sip and indulging further in the rich Drakken tradition of liquid courage. "Where you come from (specifically), interests. Nonsense that helps you pretend that I care such as that." he adds, voice light with a soft teasing tone.
Kagan calms down that the purple shortstack is not here to kill him. Decides to join in on the wine drinking and some light conversation while he gets drunk enough to make a move proper.
Husband of Aubree Lamay@Ellion and Adorabella Orchard@eclecticwitch Interacting with Aubree and Adorabella
Kagan could feel his hand twitch, the instinct to embed the mace into whatever new problem decided now was a good time to introduce itself into his life. His expression did not soften as he turned his gaze to the guard, it taking a moment for him to recognize him as one of the Princes lackeys, but the urge to cull the man on the stop at least lessened. "If you're going to send a message, please try and be consistent your highness..." He thinks, stepping between the guard and his bride, plucking the ring from the drakkens grasp.
He turns the ring over in his hands for a moment, pretending to consider it. It was an ugly thing of polished iron, too big to fit on the weak finger of a gem. Kagan wagered it was probably the mans own, and quietly hoped such was the case as he pocketed it. "You'll have to excuse my pet." He says, nodding to the guard, a silent acknowledgement of knowing why he was here. "They're not selected for their brightness, the poor things. Aubree." He says, barking the name and turning, forcing the ring into the gems hand. "Thank the gentlemen for being so polite as to fix your blunder."
He waits a moment, allowing the girl to give her forced gratitude. It wasn't exactly fair to the girl, he'd admit. But to anyone watching this was no more than a typical display of early gem discipline. "Please enjoy your evening sir. But we should go." He says, grabbing Aubree's wrist tightly and pulling her into the rain once the girl had finished. His boots squelched in the mud as he stomped away, the very image of a disappointed and mildly furious new husband.
Once they were a block or two away from the festivities, his gripped on the girls wrist slipped back into the uncomfortable ease. He does not slow his pace, still half pulling the gem with him to keep up with his longer stride, but the stomping slows till it is gone. "Next time you're approached by a Drakken you dont know, I suggest you play it smart and keep your mouth shut and wait for my lead. You talking freely nearly caused me a problem." He says, voice low and barely audible in the rain. They were taking a slightly longer route than he'd planned, if only to give whatever it was he was delayed for a little more time. Better safe than sorry, and he could feel the cold start to seep into him.
The warmth of the hotel was welcomed as they stepped into the lobby, decidedly soaked from the walk. He release his grip on Bree's wrist, looking at the drowned rat that was formerly his elegant bride. They must have looked somewhat out of place in the pleasant decor of the building, though that hardly mattered to Kagan. That said, last thing he wanted was someone complain about them tracking water into the building.
"Hold still." he orders, placing a hand on the side of her face and it slowly down her side till it hit her hips. The water soaking the girl slides along her body, running up the length of Kagan's arm and away from the girl. She wasn't fully dry, but he imagined being slightly damp was better than water logged. "There." he grunts, gently flicking the water out the door before performing the act on himself (with significantly less thoroughness). "We'll have a bath to warm us up once we're inside." he grunts, leading her to his room, the key clicking loudly as he turned it.
When he opened the door, he was expecting a few things. Nothing was the primary one he hoped for. Nothing, after today, would prove to be the best option. Or an assassin. Those were always fun. And one of the few people he could legally beat to death recreationally. What he was NOT expecting was another gem, lounging in his hotel room across a chair, trying what looked to be her damnedest to appear as sultry as possible while helping herself to some wine.
He closes the door calmly, removing the key from the lock and checking to make sure he had the right room. Once...twice...nope. That certainly his room. There is a brief pause before he reopens the door, walking in and dragging Aubree with him, fixing a glare down at the lavender haired woman. "And what, pray tell, has put you in my room?" He asks, releasing Aubree's wrist so she might explore the room while he...dealt with whatever this is.
Kagan helps Aubree with the guard, then stomps around pretending to be a grumpy gus as he waits out whatever it is Ehkota is doing. When he returns to the hotel, he drys off Aubree and himself before going to his room. Where upon he discovers his new bride. It a takes a moment before he realizes that is what Adora probably is. Still, interrogations are in order to their new purpley intruder.
Husband of Aubree Lamay@Ellion Interacting with Aubree
"Sorrak's tits, its all day with these people..." Kagan swears quietly, watching as what few drakken remaining pull their new pets close. Aubree's little message from the prince also didn't help, and quietly he hoped this wasn't what the royal had been referring to. "Well Bree, I believe that is as good as a cue as any." He grunts, walking to the back of the room, pulling the gem behind him with no real thought to being gentle. Expedience was more important at the moment than her comfort, and he'd be damned if he was going to be killed because of some breeding sows inability to run in heels.
The streets of Železna Kri were less packed now, the celebration of her peoples new prizes having died down as the rain over took the streets, the normally yellow dust of the streets now darkening as the water began to take root deeper into the frequently thirsty soil. He stands in the door way a moment, enjoying the lack of noise beyond the fall of raindrops and the now muted stench of the city. Rain had helped that last point, but not considerably, but it was at least now tolerable.
"Its a few blocks to the hotel. I dare to assume you've no strong aversion to water?" He asks, not even bothering to look at Aubree. He could shield them both from the rain if need be, but the dust cloud from his earlier fight had reminded him how rusty he'd become at using magic for any great length of time. And more than that, if whatever was causing that disturbance from earlier followed them (though Gods know why they would), he wanted to be able to respond quickly.
Kagan decides its time to leave, not wanting to bother with a party crasher. Drags Aubree to an exit, but stops to take a moment to zen out in the rain.
Husband of Aubree Lamay@Ellion Interacting with Aubree
"You are." Kagan says, brusquely, ignoring the brief sideways glance the gem threw in the direction of the Warden and his brides. To be entirely fair, the man unnerved other Drakken, so he could hardly blame the gem for keeping a cautionary eye on him. The girl was atleast not completely ignorant of her new homes traditions."Kinner’s make their living off of tithes paid to them for culling Drakken unfit to live, either due to illness or deformities of birth. You were payment for a particularly accomplished warlord I recently had the pleasure of easing into Krenta’s embrace.” he says, gently placing a hand on the girls shoulder. ”It’s a rare thing for a Kinner to acquire one of your kind, so take some pride in that Aubree. You’re likely the only gem in this room who has managed to bring honor to a Drakken and didn’t need to fuck them to do so.”
There is a moment of awkward pause as Kagan thinks of what they should do next. Shopping wasn’t really an option. For one, the shops were closed, and for another he simply felt too tired from the days fighting to watch the Gem parade about in fanciful clothing. ”...I’ll...We’ll look at getting you a trinket of some sort in the morning. As a reward I suppose.” He moves to the girls side, taking her arm in his own. It was an awkward gesture. Kagan was many thing, but familiar with physical affection was clearly not one of them. “ For now, if you wish, I have no strong objections to you saying your goodbyes to any companions you’ve in your fellow Gems. As long as you do not disturb their husbands. If not, I think it best we retire for the evening. Tomorrow looks to be busy, and I’ve some notes that I need to prepare.” He says, quietly as he readjusts himself in an attempt to get more comfortable with the contact. There is another pause. ”...among other things.”
Kagan explains how he acquired his new bride. Tells her he’ll buy her something nice since she is partially responsible for a Drakken finding an honorable death (as her ‘share’ of the tithe.) Then tells her she can say her goodbyes, as he’d like to retire for the night. Both to prepare his findings for Ehkota and figure out what the prince said to her. He does not realize the double entendre of the situation.
Husband of Aubree Lamay@Ellion Interacting with Aubree
Kagan gave a small silent bow as Ehkota retreated back to the vast swath of girls and guards the prince had pulled his bride from. 'And there he goes again...cant help but feel the man has never had a conversation in his life that wasn't wholly one sided....' he thinks, a small twinge of annoyance flashing across his face. Still, he shouldn't complain about being in a princes good graces, even if it was only to suit the mans needs. And given the princesses little dance from earlier with three would be assassins, he should probably count himself lucky that he WAS in the man's good graces. He rubs the annoyance from his temples, gods he was tired. The prince had said something to the girl, he'd have to ask about THAT later. But there was time to bemoan his unwilling involvement in a political coup later. For now, he had something more important to deal with. He sets the mace he'd collected earlier on the floor with a soft thunk, not really having another means of stowing it for the moment.
He looks over his bride...A strange experience, if he were being honest. A few months ago, the idea of owning a gem seemed pleasant, but unlikely. Kinners, for all their worth, were not exactly highly valued martial champions, so a Kinner with a bride were far something of a commodity. He sighs, taking her chin in his hand with a little more care than was probably necessary. “Let's have a look at you then...” He huffs, tilting her gaze up to meet his own.
She was decidedly tall for a Gem, though Kagan still managed to stand a good two feet over her. Lithe and almost pathetically thin, at least when compared to the healthy muscled figure of most Drakken women. He guessed her skin was fair enough, though he'd little context for that assessment. He'd seen few gems without a generous peppering of light bruising. Her eyes were at least familiar enough to be comfortable. “Hazel.” He grunts, “A little too light, but nice either way. Though I'm hardly crazy for the hair...” He grumbles halfheartedly, glancing at the waterfall of red falling around her ears. “I'll have to live with the color but its too long. I suggest you think of how you'd like it cut for when we return home...” He releases his grip on her chin, finally freeing the gem.
“I am Kagan Galegar.” He says firmly, glaring down at the Gem. “Kinner of the Church of Krenta...which probably means painfully little to you, given the theological backwater of Gemmenia. In short, you may think of us as a funeral priest of sorts. In public, you are expected to refer to me as Sir or Kinner Galegar. I will leave private addresses to your discretion.” He bends over, retrieving the mace. “I would have your name Gem. Now. I have neither the ego nor patience to assign you some demeaning moniker.”
Kagan puts up with further royal shenanigans, but decides to check out his new bride instead of dwelling on it. He's pleased with most everything, but finds the actual experience of now owning a gem strange. He does not enjoy the fact Aubree has long hair and tells her to think about how she wants it cut. He then asks her name, not wanting to give a pet name as he thinks it would be silly.
Kinner of The High Church of Krenta Interacting with: Nobody!
Kagan watched the fight between the two Dantanath men with disinterests, his nerves preventing him from joining in the roaring and jeering of the drakken around him. He'd still not seen hide nor hair of Holg since their conversation earlier, but he was sure the man was preparing something. It helped little that their bout was the next on the list. He watched numbly as the younger drakken stormed off the field, apparently dissatisfied with the bouts conclusion. ”Leave it to a high born to find a way to complain about a victory…” he thinks, silently staring as the elder drakken brushed passed him without so much as acknowledging his existence. That suited the kinner just fine. He had enough noble problems on his plate, so the grouchy victor could keep to himself.
Kagan stripped off his shirt, tossing it on a bench as he stepped into the arena. He was by no means a large drakken, he’d freely admit that. He was tall, for sure, but he’d never fully grown into the height, his muscles more lithe than the bruising frames of most drakken his size. So his entrance was...less welcoming than what the Dantanath pair had received. The sounds of teasing jeers, surprised laughter, and (pleasantly enough) a few cat calls had largely replaced the uproar of excitement that had previously held dominion over the arena. It helped little that his weapons were, by his own admission, modest at best.
The longsword currently resting on his hip was a hand me down from his previous master, the leather of its grip frayed and smelling of age. Kagan should have replaced it long ago, it groaned under the weight of another blade and was a devil to keep sharpened, but it was also 40 years familiar to the young drakken. He had cut his teeth on his profession with this sword, so parting with it wasn’t something he was keen to do just yet. The knife strapped to the small of his back was of a higher quality, but still a plain thing compared to some of the more ostentatious designs floating about Železna Kri.
Kagan’s stomach almost dropped as Holg waddled into the arena, an obscene symphony of clanging metal and creaking leather straps. Kagan couldn't but help but glare at the gaudy full plate armor the older drakken had adorn himself with. Along every surface, the armor gleamed with dark etching of famous battles from Drakka's history, gold trim along its sides casting blinding reflections into the crowd above. His mace and shield were equally gilded, though the flanges of the weapon and deep scaring on the shield showed they were far from purely ornamental pieces. A few boos of echoed through the crowd, but Holg seemed impervious to their effect, instead raising his arms in gratitude to what small portion of the crowd deigned it acceptable to cheer the display of wealth over his opponent.
As the crowds roar died down, Holg bellows. "My brothers! A great injustice as befallen our dear traditions!" He begins, his theatrics hushing the crowd with a speed that surprised Kagan. Seems that for all Holg's bravado, he at least knew how to drum up his own theatrics for effect. "Every year we send only our strongest. OUR BEST to collect brides. But this..." He says, gesturing limply at Kagan with his mace.
"Boy." He decides, lowering the mace. "He's earned nothing. Just a kinner riding off the back of his masters success!" A hushed murmur falls over the crowd, but Kagan made sure to keep his gaze calmly locked on his opponent. Looking around too much would betray some level of weakness and only strengthen the mans claims. "Are we going to let a parasite steal what naturally belongs to the strongest in drakka?!" Holg bellows, receiving a thunder of stomping feet and hollers of approval for this clearly justified defender of tradition.
"Then by the grace of Drum and for the honor of the choosing, I challenge you Kagan Galegar. A duel for-" Kagan yawns, interrupting Holg. "Oh. Please excuse me." he says, scratching the side of his head. "Sorry its just I'm a little tired from staying up late last evening. Tell me, before you continue on with your soliloquy, do you know when my opponent will show up?" He asks, giving his back a quick stretch. Silence passes over everyone, save for a few barking laughs in the back of the crowd.
"You...you dare mock a duel!? I'm ashamed to call you my fellow drakken." Holg stutters quickly, attempting to not get to side tracked. "You're a drakken?!" Kagan gasps, a few more laughs erupting from the crowd. "By Sorrak's breasts, with all that armor I thought you were just a gem on stilts."
"DO YOU ACCEPT THE CHALLENGE OR ARE YOUR INSULTS AS EMPTY AS YOUR SEED?" Holg screams, voice cracking slightly in frustration. Kagan could practically hear the poor bastards teeth girding together as he attempted to maintain what little formal dignity he could salvage from this farce of a challenge.
Kagan waits for a moment, pretending to consider the request, meanwhile admiring the stewing fury Holg now carried in his breast. "I accept the challenge. If you win you claim my bride rights and my life, if I win you forfeit your honor and I take your life. Do these terms agree with you?"
Holg hesitates for a moment, clearly surprised Kagan upped the ante to a duel to the death, but nods all the same. Both drakken slip comfortably into a defensive stance, taking a moment to size the other up.
Kagan, for his part, looked exceptionally calm for someone currently screaming internally at himself for running his mouth just make a rival look stupid. By all measures, Holg was the better fighter here and both of them knew it. He had a good hundred years of experience on Kagan and the better gear to boot.
Kagan thinks for a moment, trying to decide the best option for attack. He was taller, and normally that would confer some advantage. But with his avenues for attack being limited to the slots in the armor, reach was less a deciding factor than precision. The shield was also a problem. Even if he used both hands to swing, his sword was simply too light to budge the iron hunk. If he wanted to waste energy, he could try knocking Holg over. But that armor was fitted to the man, and Kagan doubted Holg would have bothered with it if he wasn't used to wearing it. Rushing him was the best option then, only so fast one can move in full plate, no matter how used they are to it. "circling around mace side and stabbing it is then..." he thinks, adjusting his grip.
D&D DUEL
Kagan broke the stalemate first, rushing towards Holg and throwing a weak swing, a creeping feeling of joy spreading through him as the screech of metal on metal met his ears. Holg was surprisingly unbalanced from the sudden charge, attempts to swing down on Kagan's shoulder, the young Kinner stepping deftly to the side from the clumsy swing. Kagan fires out with his blade, managing to just barely sink the blade into the older Drakken's shoulder. The young kinner grins as he twists the blade, Holg screaming in fury as he swats the blade away with his shield, feeling the blood beginning to flow slowly from his shoulder. Kagan withdraws, taking another wild swipe at Holg, but the armored hulk seems to finally find his footing, the blade bouncing off his shield as his foot fires out, catching Kagan in the chest and knocking him prone.
Holg looms over Kagan, his own grin as the rush of battle fills his system. A bellow echos from his chest as he brings the mace down on Kagan. Reflex over takes Kagan as he rolls to the side and onto his knees, the mace meeting dirt as he feels the wind rush past him. As Holg prepares for a second swing, Kagan rushes forward, his blade managing to sink once again into the shoulder slot. Holg attempts to power through the stab, but Kagan twist the still embeded blade forcing a shriek of pain from Holg as he aborts his swing, stepping back and freeing the blade from himself once more.
Kagan presses the opening, but Holg manages to regain his composure just fast enough to fire out with a swing of his own, his mace clipping the side of the kinners skull. The blow stuns Kagan, the world momentarily mixing in a swirl of color as his brain attempts to recover from the mild trauma inflicted on him. He backs off groggily, clutching the side of his head with a free hand as he attempts to keep his focus on Holg's next assault.
Kagan raises his sword to block as Holg takes a horizontal swipe at him, but with his head still swimming from the blow earlier he looses his grip on his blade, the mace ripping it from his hand as it clatters to the dirt a few feet away. Kagan throws a hurried glance at Holg and then to his sword, his brain recovering just enough to hear the crowd screaming as the fight began to build towards what they thought was its logical conclusion.
Kagan gropes wildly at his back, his dizzied mind searching for his blade. Holg slams forward with his shield, not wanting to let this brat with no title insult him any further with his defiance. The shield bites into Kagan, but he manages to roll with the punch, finally managing to get his hand on the dagger as his mind finally steadies. They stare each other down for a moment, Kagan not wanting to close the distance until he fully recovered from the earlier blow. Holg, meanwhile, bangs his shield with his mace, stepping forward for every step Kagan takes back. "Come oooon!" He gloats through the pain of his shoulder.
Kagan bites the inside of his cheek, feeling his magic claw at the air around him and throwing it to the ground, kicking up plumes of dust and dirt. He almost felt guilty, as this probably made for a terrible show for those watching the fight. He backs out of the cloud quickly, hearing Holg's armor clattering as he swung wildly.
He keeps the sphere of whirling dust following him as he moves towards his sword sheathing the dagger once more, it was better for him to let Holg think he had him on the run. Curled fingers of air whipped around Kagan and the dust bit at his eyes, blurring his vision. It was far from comfortable, but better than being fully exposed. He drops to his knees, sliding his hands through the dirt grasping at where he thought it was for a few milliseconds before a finger finally slides across its edge.
Kagan grips the blade end with both hands, the edge cutting into his palms as he waited in the still whirling winds.Jagn Huk, or the thunder stroke as the Gems called it. When his master first showed him the technique Kagan had said it was easily the dumbest thing he'd ever seen. He changed his mind after the third or forth crack to the skull. Results couldn't be argued with, no matter how silly it looked.
Kagan waits in the smoke for a while, wondering where his opponent was. He almost dropped the cloud when an orange flare of color darts just past his head, forcing him to drop low. "ENOUGH GAMES GALEGAR. COME OUT HERE AND FIGHT" He hears, muffled slightly by the wind. " Ok, so Holg is smart enough to not blindly walk into a dust storm"[ Kagan thinks, inching closer to the edge of the small storm. He was beginning to tire, and keeping this small maelstrom wasn't helping.
With little in the way of options, Kagan opts to use the one thing that got him into this mess. If nothing else, shooting off at the mouth would atleast be one last bit of catharsis before he had his skull caved in. "Come now Harin.." He yells, huffing slightly as dirt filled his mouth. "Hardly seems sporting for me to doing all the work. You've got to atleast earn SOMETHING yourself in your life. Daddy not being around to give you everything anymore and all..."
A furious roar is all the response he gets before another fireball shoots through the smoke, this time harmlessly passing over Kagan. The kinner waits a moment, straining his ears to try and find Holg before he found him. Between the whipping of wind and the gentle crackle of the still burning flame Holg threw behind him, he could barely make out the faint clicking of metal on metal a foot or two in front of him. Kagan grits his teeth, pushing himself forward out of the dust, throwing the whole of his weight behind the blow leveled squarely at the now terrified Holg's head. The hilt cracks against the drakkens helm, embedding itself a good three inches into the skull beneath. Metal screeches as the blade snaps cleanly at the point of impact, the hilt remaining firmly in Holg's skull.
There is a moment of quiet as Holg stares at Kagan, dropping his mace. A hand slowly reaches up, awkwardly fondling the new, rather extreme piercing. Fear over takes him and Holg drops to his knees, panicked panting being the only words he can manage as he desperately tries to remove the hilt without touching it. "HGet...hgeet eet outttaa" Holg squeals, unable to fully articulate as he felt metal press into flesh he wasn't even aware had feeling before now. Kagan stands, confident that he was no longer the focus of Holg's attention. He drops the ruined remains of his blade to the ground, hefting the heavy mace onto his shoulder as Holg grasps the hilt and pulls.
Kagan winces as a wet pop echos from outside his vision, looking up to the crowd. There is an awkward silence over everyone, before Kagan finally manages the courage to speak. "So....That counts as a win right? Or am I disqualified because he killed himself?...Judge?...little help here?" He asks, smiling as a small around of confused applause began.
So I was having trouble with the fight scene. so using premade character sheets, I D&D'd the whole thing. here is the log of attacks for 1st level fighter (holg) and 1st level monk (Kagan). Buffed up their HP to third level for the sake of a longer fight. Holg AC: 18 HP: 42 Kagan AC: 15 HP: 27. iniative: Kagan Holg Kagan: Movement, attack short sword: 8+5. Miss. Holg: Attack mace, 1. Kagan: AoO from critical 1, attack shortsword, 17+5. Hit. deals 9 damage. Attempts a second swing, 6+5 miss. Attempt martial art swing. 1. Holg: AoO from critical 1. 18+3. 1 damage to kagan, knock prone. Attempt swing from attack. 5+5. Miss 33/42 Kagan: Stand. Attempts swing 18+5. Hit, 8 damage. 26/27. Martial arts swing. Nat 20. 5 damage. 26/27 Holg: Swing. 14+5. 8 damage. 20/42. Kagan: dodge action. 18/27 Holg: attempts disarm action at disadvantage. 15+5, 14+5 attack roll, contested by acrobatics. Kagan rolls 13+5. No damage but Kagan is disarmed. No damage is dealt as part of the attack. 20/42. Kagan: attempt to draw dagger. AoO for Holg (logically he would). 8+5, miss. Kagan uses wind affinity to create dust cloud.18/27 Holg: Attempts to attack Kagan at disadvantage due to dust cloud. 5+5. Miss. 20/42 Kagan: Kagan moves dust cloud with himself. Attempts to search for sword while in dust cloud. Perception at disadvantage. DC 11 to beat. 12+2, 18+2. Pass. 18/28 Holg: Dust clears around him. Hurls one fire ball into dust cloud following Kagan. Ranged spell attack (adding proficency and wis mod) at disadvantage.11+3, 9+3. Miss. 20/42. Kagan: Attempts deception check to lure Holg closer. 15+0. Contested by insight by Holg. natural 1. Holg: approaches edge of dust cloud, second fire attack. Disadvantage, 19+3, 7+3. Miss. Kagan: Perception check to know where Holg is: DC 13. 18+2. Success. Attack from concealment. Advantage. 1+5, 20+5. 10+3 damage to holg. Martial arts strike. 14+5. Hit. 8 damage to Holg.
Kagan fights Holg. He manages to do fairly well, winning due to a surprise attack as on Holg using Mordhau (historical sword technique where you hold the blade and strike with the hilt). Holg freaks out at the sudden intrusion of metal into his skull. The crowd, having rooted against Kagan due to his inexperience and Holg's suggestion of his weakness, goes mild. Ghastly engages in still D&D esq emulation of the fight due to writters block. Combat log included. Character sheets used: Holg: olddungeonmaster.files.wordpress.com/… Kagan: olddungeonmaster.files.wordpress.com/…
Kinner of The High Chruch of Krenta Interacting with: Nobody!
Kagan awoke at his desk, face plunged into one of many many tomes of Drakka's ancient (and oft surprisingly prose heavy) religious lore. Last night had...not been pleasant. Cursory attempts at finding justifications for Ehkota's request were frustratingly slim at best and, if the now empty bottle of wine was any indication, soul crushing at best. He yawns, sitting up and brushing away a stubborn ream of paper that refused to let go of his cheek. A rough hand raps at his door as Kagan rubs his face. "Unless you're a god or a woman coming to bear my seed, begone. I'm in little mood for company..." He yelled, returning his attention to a scroll that had put him to sleep the night before.
There is a hushed conversation from the other side of the door, and for a moment Kagan hopes whoever deigned to bother him took his request to heart. That hope is dashed a moment later as a effeminate but harsh bark breaks his concentration. "Temptin' as that is...The Royal Family request your presence at todays festivities. 'nd by request, I mean you are coming...Or we can come in and make ye after bit o' fun..." the voice says, equal parts flirtatious and menacing.
Kagan sighs, standing up and opening the door for his unwelcomed visitors, surprised to find not one but two female Drakken guards. The first stood confident, her chest thrown forward that he was sure it was pressed against the door before he'd open it. She stood nearly as tall as Kagan, broad bull like horns sharpened to points in a mass of tightly curled black hair. She was older, her frame beinging to morph the lithe athletic of youth with the sturdy broadness that came after around 200 years or so. If Kagan were forced to guess, he doubted there was much gem in her blood. The other drakken was smaller and closer to his own age, barely scraping above five foot thanks to a pair of overly long horns spiraling upwards. She was much fairer than her companion, lacking much color to her face save for the occasional copper freckle. The taller one cleared her throat as Kagan realized his glare had persisted longer than what was socially acceptable.
"Fine." He spat, voice ringing with clear venom. "I'll make sure to make a brief appearance near the end of the-" The taller drakken quickly steped closer, and Kagan's concession was cut short as a growl of challenge took its place. "Nah prettyboy. See.." She chirped, clearly not threatened by the display as she places an hand firmly on his chest. "Me boss was very clear like on errybody getting one o' them breeding sows this year be showin up. Fer all o' it. Lots o' effort shame ta waste it..." she drawled in an accent Kagan assumed to be faked, if only to patronize.
His annoyance must have been something of an amusement to her as a dark chuckle escaped her throat. "..course if it be company thas the issue..." She growls, lifting all but a finger and letting is slowly slide down the younger drakkens chest. "Fuck off," Kagan hisses, slapping the hand away, silently taking some joy in the flash of offense that shot across the drakken womans face. "I'll go. And while I appreciate the offer.." He begins, straightening his robes. "I generally prefer my men to have a little less beard. Still. Deeply flattered." He adds, stepping past her quickly (suddenly greatful for his thinner musculature).
He takes a small moment to look back, happy to see a moment of confusion before the wheel clicks into place and the sudden sound of teeth grinding against one another fills the hall. Her friend cuts her off as she readys to fire a retort, "Let it go Kela, we got like...six more of these to do....please?" the smaller one squeaks, Kagan barely able to hear her over the sound of the now named Kela's agitation. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
”Welcome to the Pits my darlings! This week marks yet another successful Reaping of the Gemmenite lands by the grace of my grandfather. We wish to share this merry time with all of our subjects, not just those who have earned a bride this cycle, so it is in your honor that I proudly present this year’s Reaping tournament. It trust all participants are ready? Then let us begin!”
Kagan stifled a groan as the young royal finished her speech, wondering just how in Sorrak's balls he'd managed to end up enrolled in this farce. A swift punch to the arm disguised as playful excitement hitting his shoulder reminded him. Holg Harin. One of Harin's boys....whelp, more like it.
The air of the common grounds just outside the gates of the Pit were just as warm and musky as the day before. Kagan had made it a point to try and lay low, wanting to get in and find a nice quiet place to sit and think while he awaited the end of this forced celebration. How Holg found him, Kagan couldn't be sure. What he was sure of, if the fresh scar across Holg's face was any indication, that the former favored son of the house of Harin was no longer the favored son.
And good riddance. Holg was a talented enough duelist (if word of mouth was to be believed), but what respect people had for him beyond that could fit in an ants thimble. He threw his fathers money about like it was his own and bragged about his houses great standing in court. To listen to him speak, you'd think he himself had slain Kilix all those decades ago. But this mattered little to Kagan. Holg had hired him and had paid him, that one of his brothers took his birth right was hardly the Kinners problem.
"You!" He hissed, rushing the young kinner with surprising speed for his bulk. Ok....now it was Kagan's problem. "Ahhh. Young master Holg." Kagan said, donning the calm reserved smile of his profession. "It is most pleasing to see you. Have you come to jo-"
"Shut up just shut it." the older drakken hisses, cutting him off. "We need to renegotiate. Now." The smile on Kagan's face vanished immediately as he takes a step back, glaring hard into the older males eyes. "I apologize. All agreements are final. To do so would shame your fathers spirit. In Krenta's domain no less." he says, agitation mounting from yet another annoyance on what should have been a simple trip.
"BOLLOCKS!" Holg shouts, drawing a few confused looks from passers by. Holg hunches down, pretending to pick something up hurriedly before returning his gaze to Kagan. "Look. We both know the whole gods thing...its just a racket right?" He says, oblivious to the increase heat of Kagan's glare. "All I needs are the brides. I can sell 'em and use the money to get some mercenaries and take back my house from that little RAT FUCK brother of mine." He blurts, breaths becoming more hurried and voice becoming louder. Kagan almost felt sorry for him. To have lived so long among such a proud heritage only for have the rug to be pulled out from beneath him.
So it was with a heavy heart that Kagan said, "That doesn't sound like your problem Holg. Now if you'll excuse me...I've got other business to attend to. Do let me know if you wish to hire me in the future though. If you can." with all the frigid indifference his body could muster. He brushes past walking back towards the the crowd. Kagan stops dead as Holg blurts from behind him, "I SAW YOU FREEZE."
Kagan places a hand slowly onto the hilt of his sword, turning back towards the shamed Drakken."Care to repeat that?" he asks, locking eyes with the soon to be dead man. "When you fought my father. I saw you freeze..." Holg says, inching slowly back for a moment, his fear of attack over taking him for a moment despite pulling what he thought to be his trump card. "You were ready near pissing yourself. If word got out about it...well...I can't imagine the sterling reputation you gained from it would stay. Just sign the bride right over to me and all this goes away man."
Kagan could feel his knuckles turn white as the death grip on his sword tightened. He was so SICK of being pushed around in this damned city. First the prince, then the guards, now this little failure acted like he owed the world to their whims. He advanced slowly back to Holg, who seemed to shrink under the glare of the fury he'd inadvertently unleashed.
Killing him here and now would be no good. Stab happy as Drakken were, even they frowned on cold blooded killing. He likely wouldn't face any legal penalties, but socially it'd be a black mark on his reputation he'd be hard pressed to scrub out. But this whelp was too much of a hassle to leave unaddressed. "...very well. I will sign my brides over to you..." he says, voice a low growl. Holg immediately pounces, the tension in his shoulders melting away as he rushed to place his hands on the younger Drakkens shoulders with a hardy laugh. "Good good! I've a man ready to write up the exchange waiting lets-"
"IF." Kagan says, cutting the mans rapid fire speech short. "You agree to duel me in the tournament. That way, there is no shame in your claiming." A cruel smile creeps on to his face as the newly recovered Holg balks at the request. "It would not do to bring undue shame on to the heir of the Harin house, would it sir?"
Holg remains quiet for a moment, hands still on Kagan's shoulders. "I...uh...Y..Yes. Yes of course. Makes perfect sense. I'll...go collect my equipment. Met you at the ceremony eh?" He says with a nervous chuckle backing away. It took all of Kagan's self control not to slash the man across the belly. "Of course sir."
Of course, Kagan had expected that to be the end of it. His signing in to the tournament was merely a formality. In all honesty, he'd merely planned to throw the first fight he could and be done with the whole ridiculous power play, satisfied at having put Holg back in his place. But now the idiotic former noble actually showed up. And so here he sat in the wings of the pit, waiting with the other combatants for his forth coming fight. Holg had been around for the ceremony, but quickly disappeared from sight shortly there after, which only compounded his concerns. He rubs the anxiety from his face, hoping he could be knocked out of the tournament before fighting the disgruntled Harin and simply deny the agreement ever happened.
If he ever actually managed to get a bride, she'd damn well better have been worth all this bloody trouble. As it stood, he was doubtful.
Kagan awakens to be annoyed by a pair of guards demanding he attend the tournament while he'd rather be at home trying to find a way out of his current Royal problems. Upon arriving, Holg Harin, son of the noble Kagan had previously performed a Kinning on shows up. He has lost his claim on his house to a younger sibling and demands the Kinner return the tithe given to him so he can hire help to reclaim his position. Frustrated at being pushed around since arriving at the capital, Kagan agrees to a wager and enters the tournament, thinking it would scare the parasite away. It does not work, and now he waits at the side lines stressing out about his up coming fight. He decides no amount of sex is worth this trouble.
Kinner of The High Chruch of Krenta Interacting with: Nobody!
Kagan sighed as Ehkota cleared the exit, not having missed the thinly veiled threat. Well...thinly veiled for a Drakken, of course. Though he had little context to it, were he aware of the intricacies of Gemminite courtly conduct he likely would have described the threat as having all the subtly of a brick crashing through a series of windows onto a large pile of similarly sized bricks which, upon their inevitable collision, would cascade into once again similar trajectories through windows with their fated landing being a pile of similar brick piles until naught existed in conscious thought but the symphonic dissonance of hurling bricks and smashed glass.
However, he was not familiar with courtly conduct of any sort, so the long winded analogy above failed to occur to him. Instead, he sighed and returned to his tea, mulling over his current situation. If he accepted Ehkota's request it would be in direct violation of the churches tradition, and he hardly cared for the mans...casual disrespect of the art. "If you want a killer, hire an assassin you spoiled brat..." he thought, clenching the cup hard enough he could feel the cheap china crack under his grip. On the other hand, the prince was clearly on the war path and given Jeruns proximity to the capital, Kagan did not favor his odds even IF he ran to Gaelnesh with the issue.
He sets the cup down and exits the cafe, back into the streets of Železna Kri. He'd keep the request a secret, for now (not that he had much choice). He'd have to review the churches literature and see if there was some way he could justify Kinning the King for Ehkota. Without that, Gaelnesh could potentially have the full backing of Krenta's servants, and if Kagan was to be pulled into this coup that was in no way acceptable. And, if nothing else, it might provide him a way to perform the Kinning without shaming King Toran.
Kagan becomes frustrated with Ehkota's strong arming, but vows to keep silent about their meeting and see what can be done. He's going to see if there is religious justification for the younger sibling to demand a Kinning, so if he DOES follow through on the request Gaelnesh will not have an open and shut case for demanding the backing of the Church of Krenta.
"As pretty as you are?" Amalia asked, pulling back to brush the girl's hair from her face. "You will surely be fought over by the most handsome of Drakken. And Drakken do value hard work. Do your best and your future husband may treat you fairly."
Whistles ominously as he saves that little tid bit of NPC interaction for later.
Kinner of The High Chruch of Krenta Interacting with: Ehkota of the Royal Family of Drakka @Ellion
Kagan remained deathly silent as Ehkota spoke, face impassive and moving only enough to take occasional sips of his tea. He payed little attention the warriors flanking him, it was a childish tactic and he had no doubt the Prince knew it. "Probably done so he need not waste his time on cowards..." He thinks dully, only giving a polite nod as he was congratulated on his work with Krisov. Correcting him on the nature of the encounter would hardly be productive.
He readied himself for a small argument as the prince finally deigned it time to get down to brass tax, expecting a denial of the tithe owed to him (and by extension, the church). It would be pointless, he knew that already. It would shame the death of Krisov, but if the royal family refused to allow the transfer of a bride, there was little he could do than bring it to the priest of the local temple to lodge a complaint. Ehkota's request, however, was certainly not what he was expecting. Kagan nearly chokes on his tea, setting the cup down before clearing his throat with a brief cough.
"You will have to excuse that mi'lord." He says, readjusting himself as a more friendly air came about him. "I was expecting a wholly different conversation with you. I apologize." He'd known of the kings...condition. Not in detail, he would wager few outside of the palace would. But to be asked by name for the act was little more than a mere fantasy before now.
He takes a small breath, calming his eagerness. "While I would gladly accept your offer Sire, there are a few things I need to make sure have been taken into consideration before we move on, as a matter of formality." He says slowly, leaning forward in his chair as he thought. "First and foremost I would like you to consider a more veteran Kinner for the task, if it would please you. While I was successful in bring peace to Warlord Harin, it was my first act as a full member of my order. Given the gravity of the situation, I do not wish to cause you or your family more suffering due to my inexperience."
Kagan did not particularly enjoy the idea of losing this tithe to another Kinner, inexperience be damned. But his ego was secondary to his duty, and he would be damned before he let himself forget that. "Secondly is the matter of the tithe which would be owed after the fact. To be brief, considering the prosperity your family has brought to yourselves and our people, it is...considerable." Kagan takes another sip of his tea, steeling himself for what he had to say next and the possible outburst to follow.
"Its value beyond what would be fair to ask. And given that your brother is set to inherit, the responsibility of its payment would fall to him and him alone. To that end, before anything can be done, I will need to negotiate an acceptable amount with him and an elder member of the church." Kagan silence himself, gazed fixed tightly on the Prince as he attempted to calm his nerves. One would have to be blind not to see there was little love between the two, and Kagan would hardly blame Ehkota for that fact.
There was a part of him that wished to provide the service pro bono, but he silence the thought as soon as it arrived. To do so would be little better than regicide, and he would move mountains before letting his king be shamed in such a way."...With that said..." He begins, despite his better judgement. "You are to be commended for your loyalty to your father for bringing this forward. It is rare that one of my order is approached by someone our age. I am deeply pleased to see our peoples finest house has wisdom and strength in equal measure." He says, tone flat but warm. Kagan Galegar did not deal in flattery, he had not the tongue for it and now was no exception. Still, it was only right to give the young prince something to ease his mind.
Kagan meets with Ehkota and expects to be denied his tithe. He is however pleasantly surprised to discover the young prince is only concerned with preserving the honor of his father. Kagan, impressed by the young Drakken's loyalty to his family, informs him that he agrees to perform the ritual killing, but not before speaking with the elder prince so an acceptable tithe might be agreed on.
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