Jamaros vs Baatar (Round 4)
18th day of the Month of Conflict, 126th Year of Factol Haskar’s Administration
The walrus-man gasps, struggling for breath as its lungs fill with blood. Jamaros releases his bear hug and steps slightly to the left, clamping one powerful hand around the Thanoi’s right wrist and while the other one latches on to the warrior’s shoulder. The ghoulish barbarian smiles, revealing sharp canine teeth and twists the arm violently. There is a sickening pop as the arm is pulled from its socket. Baatar screams, his cries an ululating howl that echoes off the walls and ceilings of the cavern beneath the Butcher’s Block.
Jamaros twists the arm further, forcing his opponent down onto his knees and drags the wrist back and up, levering it upwards the base of the Thanoi’s neck and pushes forward on it. There is a second snap as the wrist bones give way, splintering under the force of the undead barbarian’s grip. The shock is too much for Baatar to handle and he passes out from the pain, his limp body slumping forward onto the floor of the locked cage.
The crowd erupts in mixed cries of celebration and rage. Money changes hands as losing gamblers pay out to the winners.
Felgar makes his way forward, climbing the steps to the locked cell with trepidation. He pulls the key to the cage from an inner pocket of his filthy jacket. He unlocks the door and makes his way inside.
“ANNOUNCING THE WINNER IN OUR DUEL OF THE LIVING VERSUS THE UNDEAD, THE UNMATCHABLE, THE UNASSAILABLE, THE RELENTLESS FURY, THE WALKING CORPSE THAT WOULD SOONER EAT YOUR FACE THAN LOOK YOU, THE MIGHTY JAMAROS!”
The crowd goes absolutely wild as Felgar finishes announcing the winner of the bout. His dwarves begin cranking away at the winches to raise the cage out of the way so Baatar’s body can be dragged off. The walrus-man whimpers incoherently and cradles his broken arm and wrist against his chest as he lays on the floor in the fetal position. The gnome looks up at the hulking barbarian and holds out a bag of coins. “I could give ye this, but I got something even better fer a cutter like ye. Come work fer me, be my champion and I will get ye the best bashers in all of Sigil in this cage to fight ye. What do ye…” the gnome’s voice trails off as a sense of dread washes over the chamber.
Eyes turn toward the source of the discomfort and fall upon a figure in a hooded cloak. The stranger glides forward, seeming floating just above the floor. The crowd scrambles out of the figure’s path, nearly trampling each other in their mad dash to get away from the thing. It, whatever It is, reaches the center of the ring.
Felgar gulps and takes several steps back, a cold sweat beading on his brow and he licks his lips. The gnome falls back even further when a hollow voice speaks from within the hood “Come with me. My master has need of you. Do well and you will be richly compensated.”
Jamaros: 91% health
The walrus-man gasps, struggling for breath as its lungs fill with blood. Jamaros releases his bear hug and steps slightly to the left, clamping one powerful hand around the Thanoi’s right wrist and while the other one latches on to the warrior’s shoulder. The ghoulish barbarian smiles, revealing sharp canine teeth and twists the arm violently. There is a sickening pop as the arm is pulled from its socket. Baatar screams, his cries an ululating howl that echoes off the walls and ceilings of the cavern beneath the Butcher’s Block.
Jamaros twists the arm further, forcing his opponent down onto his knees and drags the wrist back and up, levering it upwards the base of the Thanoi’s neck and pushes forward on it. There is a second snap as the wrist bones give way, splintering under the force of the undead barbarian’s grip. The shock is too much for Baatar to handle and he passes out from the pain, his limp body slumping forward onto the floor of the locked cage.
The crowd erupts in mixed cries of celebration and rage. Money changes hands as losing gamblers pay out to the winners.
Felgar makes his way forward, climbing the steps to the locked cell with trepidation. He pulls the key to the cage from an inner pocket of his filthy jacket. He unlocks the door and makes his way inside.
“ANNOUNCING THE WINNER IN OUR DUEL OF THE LIVING VERSUS THE UNDEAD, THE UNMATCHABLE, THE UNASSAILABLE, THE RELENTLESS FURY, THE WALKING CORPSE THAT WOULD SOONER EAT YOUR FACE THAN LOOK YOU, THE MIGHTY JAMAROS!”
The crowd goes absolutely wild as Felgar finishes announcing the winner of the bout. His dwarves begin cranking away at the winches to raise the cage out of the way so Baatar’s body can be dragged off. The walrus-man whimpers incoherently and cradles his broken arm and wrist against his chest as he lays on the floor in the fetal position. The gnome looks up at the hulking barbarian and holds out a bag of coins. “I could give ye this, but I got something even better fer a cutter like ye. Come work fer me, be my champion and I will get ye the best bashers in all of Sigil in this cage to fight ye. What do ye…” the gnome’s voice trails off as a sense of dread washes over the chamber.
Eyes turn toward the source of the discomfort and fall upon a figure in a hooded cloak. The stranger glides forward, seeming floating just above the floor. The crowd scrambles out of the figure’s path, nearly trampling each other in their mad dash to get away from the thing. It, whatever It is, reaches the center of the ring.
Felgar gulps and takes several steps back, a cold sweat beading on his brow and he licks his lips. The gnome falls back even further when a hollow voice speaks from within the hood “Come with me. My master has need of you. Do well and you will be richly compensated.”
Jamaros: 91% health
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