Sign in BG, outside the elfsong tavern (YOU WANT TO LOOK)

[Cristof]

Flick Pinsticker, short in stature, long in attitude adds his name to the list.

[decado]

No spellcasting. Does this exclude Warlocks?

[Henning Falk.dk]

arres kraven signs up for the brawl

[Stonebar]

How big ruffly is the arena?
How far apart do the characters start, distance wise?
Are ranged attacks allowed?
Double checking, your saying that items even a level 1 character can met the lv. requirements for are not allowed if they have any properties at all?
No potions right. I'm sure that goes with out saying, but it might need saying to some

[Karond]

hah, what happened to the old showing up to the fight with a game-generated level 1 fighter?

I don't know the arena size, but it won't matter. No ranged attacks. This includes warlocks. No magical items of any kind. That means no properties on any equipment, even darksteel and such is forbidden. No potions, no scrolls.

[Seymor]

"A chance to trade my wit and my blade in a dwarven arena! But without the use of my bardic magic, I won't be able to transfix my opponent while I entertain. Guess I'll just have to entertain on the run.

-Dirk Dynasty"

[Stonebar]

Aabor' El - Signs up for the great Dwarven brawl to come.

[Passiflora]

OOC NOTES

[I... think I'll participate in this, for the fun of it. I've never been rich as you guys are, so it's a chance!

I'll.. make a character related to my old Randall. He once slept with the wife of a Flaming fist character ingame, but the flaming fist never knew, and his wife had a son. Could be funny. ]

I also suggest picking the... old BG arena. If it still exists? The new arena is very nice and all and all, but you can't hear a DAMN about what the gladiators might emote, and I think it's taking off all the fun in a 'show'. The old BG arena was small enough for you to hear what was happening down there.


-------

RP

(Had to change the spear to a club, as there's no Shortspear available ingame in NWN2 to wield with a shield. Someone has to make one! >.< )


It was a rainy day on the sword coast. Rupert Jr. was fishing under the bridge. The rain, he thought, was blurrying the view of the fishes at the Wyrm's crossing, and they were easier to fool with a good lure. A trick his father taught him. The young man was the son of Rupert McTwain, a corporal of the Flaming Fist mercenaries, or so he thought. His father was missing since the Amn-Gate war, and the young man didn't even know if he was dead, or if he deserted.

"Ah, finally!"

A walleye, a big one, too. The young man brought back his line and picked up the fish, with a grin on his face. This would feed his poor mother tonight, at least. Since his father disappeared, they had to move out of their home, and live in a small farm close to Baldur's Gate, with his grandfather. With the recent drought in Baldur's Gate, the familly grew very poor, and the lad had to work harder to bring some money to his familly. Sometimes at the farm itself, but it wasn't enough. Fishing was flipping a coin, but at least he had a chance to put some meat in the plate. Junior cut the head of the fish, made sure to put the eyes in a little cloth bag, more finishing baits were always welcomed, and then made his way home, thinking about the face his mother would do upon his arrival.

The poor woman was sick. Glued in bed since two weeks, her cough was really bad, and she had strong fever. Sadly, she was just one of the poor woman that lived in the gate, and the clerics of Ilmater can't save everyone. A good meal would probably get her back on her feet.

"Wuf! Wuf!"

The lad grinned as he was welcomed by his dog, Bert. The berger picard was never far away from home, keeping birds away from the corn fields. He petted the dog's head, and took a small minnow from his backpack, giving it to his dog as he chuckled, before heading towards the house. He opened the old wooden door and layed down his pack. The lad then noticed his chain shirt and club, in a chest, opened. Someone had placed the chest there, and it was suspicious. The young man was well trained with the club and shield. His father had the time to teach him the basics, before the war, and the boy shown promising skills. Being well built himself, he was quite different from his father, who was slightly smaller than him. Both his mother and father had black hair and blue eyes, but him, had brown-reddish hair and brown eyes. Hair on his chin had started to grow at a very young age, too, which surprised his dad, as he started to grow facial hair after adulthood.

"S..son.. come here, I.. I need to tell you something."

The voice of his mother was weak. Junior worried about her and ran to her room. The woman was laying in her bed, with her father holding her hand. The old farmer, with hair whiter than birch bark, had a sad expression.

"Mum, I'm home. I.. I brought you a fish, you'll get a good meal tonight. I'm sure you'll make it. Tomorow I'm going to the temple again, in town. I'm sure they'll give me a potion for you... I'll trade the armor dad gave me. It's.. all rusty, but I'm sure they'll accept. I'll-"

"Please son, listen. There's.. something I kept hidden from you. Something I must tell you before I.. Before I.. go."

The young man walked to her, and kneeled near her bed. Bert the dog entered the room, and whined slightly as he kept his head low. Junior looked upon his mother, who smiled to him before speaking.

"I love you my son, and even if.. I did a mistake in the past, I would.. do it again, because with that mistake, I had the greatest son I could ever dream of."

The lad kept his eye upon his mother, as he tried to understand what she meant.

"Your.. father, isn't Rupert. He.. raised you, he kept us fed, and acted as it. But.. in your veins flow the blood of a strong warrior. The one that.. we called the Beast, was your true father. I.. needed you to know. I.. couldn't die without telling you the truth, my son. I.. I love you.."

The woman let out a last breath, and smiled a last time, before dying, in front of her son. The old man let a tear roll down his dirty and bearded farmer cheek, as his grandson cried himself to sleep, his head on his mother's shoulder.

The night passed.

As he woke up, Junior found himself in his room. He went down in the kitchen, hoping it was just a bad dream. There was no signs of anyone.

"Come out."

The voice came from outside. Junior took a look outside, and saw his grandfather, in a leather armor, waiting outside the old house. He walked out to meet him.

"She.. she died because we're poor. And.. we're poor because I chosed that life, here, in the fields. If.. I had followed my friends in my young days, yes, perhaps I would have died adventuring, but also.. perhaps I would have had enough money to bring a priest home for.. my daughter."

The young man was without word. He noticed his own rusty armor, a round shield and his club on the ground.

"Pick them up." His grandfather said, with a rough voice. The lad had never heard the old man with such a commanding voice, so he did what he asked.

"Today, you're training. There's a tournament in a few days, hosted by some Dwarf. You're going to participate. There's no way I will let YOUR children be poor, in the future. If you're really the son of that Randall, the beast, or whatever, you got the potential to be a great fighter. And if you can't defend yourself, I'll kick the hell out of you, grandson."

The old man charged on the youngster with his quarterstaff.

And this is how Rupert Jr Armstrong started his training, for the upcoming tournament.


(Take off 15 years from that guy and you got Rupert Jr Armstrong.)

[DM Nilbog]

hah, what happened to the old showing up to the fight with a game-generated level 1 fighter?

I don't know the arena size, but it won't matter. No ranged attacks. This includes warlocks. No magical items of any kind. That means no properties on any equipment, even darksteel and such is forbidden. No potions, no scrolls.

The Arena is huge everyone is going to have to be in a party to be able to hear each other or sit in the same section. Those fighting will not be able to be in the party.

[Simian]

{ Rondus Shieldbreaker signs up! }

[Assad]

Is this event scheduled for a specific time yet? Or did it already happen?

[Nomster]

It hasn't been scheduled yet

[Stonebar]

Can we get the expanded rules added to the list of rules? Like the no ranged attacks.

[Assad]

Once a date is set Ill role out a level 1 fellow

[ragnarok1983]

[edit from last... why make a new char when you have a classic, right!?]

*Paws saunters over in typical fashion: polearm sitting across his antler helm as if it were a weapons rack and a greatsword resting on his shoulder. The nearly-half-sane Hin of the Gate reads the notice... pauses... and then his eyes widen so much that an owl would appear beady-eyed in comparison*

Paws would... yes... and... gold with the... SIGN PAWS UP! Paws will do battle! Battle for uhm... gold and Fame! Wooooooooooooooo!

*The fame-glazed halfling proceeds to run half-crazed through the streets of Baldur's Gate. At times he claims he will be the champion. He claims he is so mighty he could beat himself in a duel. He... eventually runs out of breath and passes out in the vicinity of Maltz' shop*