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Post by Ferahgo on Jul 4, 2011 10:27:39 GMT -4
A dark cloud hangs over Riddleport, Varisia’s City of Sin. The locals have dubbed it “The Blot”, but many have dismissed its presence, going about their daily lives as if it wasn’t there. The local scholars are investigating the clouds strange presence, but they aren’t making their results known to the public.
But the blot is the last thing on many peoples minds tonight, as tonight the Gold Goblin casino is hosting the gambling event of the year; Cheat the Devil and Take his Gold!
Each of you, all with your own reasons, have chosen to try and win the prize.
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Post by Ferahgo on Jul 4, 2011 10:30:41 GMT -4
As each of you enters, just inside the main doors, there are two sultry beauties scantily clad and wearing faux bat wings, devil horns, and tails play the part of alluring succubi. Both are employees of the Gold Goblin, and they cheerfully register contestants for the tournament, process the entry fee of ten silver, and ensure each contestant signs the following contract:
Armed guards stand nearby to either side of an immense treasure chest into which each patron’s entry fee is added. The guards are on hand to not only protect the money, but to prevent any overzealous admirers from trying to dare the infamous touch of a succubus.
Beyond the registration table is the hall’s game floor. Dozens of gamblers, waitresses dressed as succubi, and bouncers mill about the room, wandering amid tables offering various games while dealers shuffle cards, roll dice, and spin wheels. Moving through this throng are a dozen more of the barely clad, bat winged vixens serving drinks and batting coal-black eyelashes flirtatiously for tips. In the center of the chamber is a short podium atop which sits a massive gold chest affixed to the floor by similarly gaudy chains. On either side of it stands a bare-chested bouncer in the exotic garb of some foreign sultan’s court. Each stands with muscled arms crossed over his chest and with a naked scimitar of prodigious size tucked through his waistband. High above them, from the hall’s cloth-draped ceiling, hangs a brass birdcage within which crouches a small, bat-winged, pointy-tailed devilish creature that sulks as it gazes over the room and occasionally rattles the bars threateningly.
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Post by Juniper on Jul 5, 2011 20:37:15 GMT -4
Karalee shudders as she enters the Gold Goblin. Not because of the demonic decor...that's a bit over-the-top, perhaps, but not that much worse than anything she's seen before. No...the problem is that she can't see any other path than to enroll in the tournament.
She slips her way through the crowd, alternately cursing and blessing her stature as she gets shoved this way and that, darts through openings too small for a human, and narrowly avoids getting trampled. She keeps her eyes peeled as she approaches the table, fingers itching to practice her trade on some of the unsuspecting pockets she's just passed. Still...she's nervous without her crew and isn't sure how much attention the burly guards are paying to individuals. Maybe later.
(Perception Check: [dice=20]+8)=20
Gambling has never particularly been her style, and certainly not with such high stakes. She reads over the contract with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach - a sick feeling that rapidly turns to an empty, rumbly, all-too-familiar feeling that isn't likely to go away anytime soon. Especially not while she dithers over her possession of a soul that hasn't been doing much good for her lately.
She looks up at the women behind the desk, the pen held uncertainly in her fingers. "So...is this a card game, then? Harrow, perhaps?"[rand=58570726601786958320061037300725181080807949221279183019891125255]
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Post by comicsans12pt on Jul 5, 2011 21:15:43 GMT -4
The last light of the afternoon follows Fiala as she steps into the room and into the registration line. She listens to the prattle of the others in line and mulling about. Some speak of what they will do with the money. Some talk of the challenge of the games. Almost all comment on the costumes. As she approaches the registration desk, she feels the weight of the silver in her hand. Why silver?
By habit she scans the room for hidden exits.
(Perception Check: [dice=20]+12)=20
She then looks at each of the succubi and then her attention is drawn by the scream and then laughter at the registration table. The woman currently being registered is loud and so is her bright orange outfit. She is laughing at the document before her that she is required to sign before being allowed into the games. “This is fantastic!” she is doing a unique combination of laughing and yelling. As Fiala continues to scan the room, the woman’s voice settles in with the other loud and gauche sounds. She no longer holds Fiala’s attention.
When her turn to register comes up, Fiala reads the document. Where do they come up with this shit? Fiala is pretty certain that the contract can’t be carried out and signs without hesitation. The devil will have quite a fight on his hands if he comes to get me.
From the registration desk Fiala enters the main room. She checks for hidden doors and exits. She scans under the gaming tables and looks at each of the tables and who is sitting there.
(Perception Check: [dice=20]+12)=21
She smells lust and anticipation. And then, she smells something else: discontent, anger sadness? She moves her head from side to side and then tilts her head up until she sees the devil like creature in the cage. Immediately Fiala’s sadness becomes palpable. Why does that poor creature have to be caged up for this stupid decor?[rand=342818270654783302150065518886068462423901954887227688724404281944]
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nick
Junior Member
The Last Gunslinger
Posts: 51
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Post by nick on Jul 6, 2011 17:33:04 GMT -4
Uriel pushed the door open and posed dramatically. Fenix obligingly chose that moment to rear up and hiss, and with the sun behind him and the wind in his hair Uriel felt confident that his entrance had been made.
There was something comfortingly familiar with the seedy bar and the various lowlifes and thugs that had gathered there. Crowds meant opportunity, and with people like this just the right amount of stupidity and gullibility for him to ply his trade. Still, it wouldn't do to be caught unawares, so he scanned the room for potentially dangerous targets. (Perception = [dice=20]+7)
Taking a path that led him by as many of the succubi girls as possible, he approached the counter to sign up for the tournament. Making his mark, a highly stylized 'X', he grinned at the caged imp and looked for a table.
"Alright boys, let's play some gods-damned cards."[rand=883971469088210154534031053094982095707681795533424373866368202957]
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skat
New Member
Posts: 39
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Post by skat on Jul 8, 2011 0:20:00 GMT -4
Solra slipped in behind Uriel, and was quickly greeted with the stench of stale ale wood. It reminded her of her days sailing with her brothers, and filled her with excitement. Ohhhh, if one of us wins this tournament, we might have enough for a new ship. As they made their way to the registration the giant treasure chest came into view. Yes, that looks like that should do it.
She quickly glanced over the contract, it mentioned something about her soul and a devil. Not really sure which one. All that mattered was that one of them was going to win. She made her mark next to the X (a trick Uriel had taught her) and then scanned the gaming hall for a good spot to stand, behind a few of the tables, so her brothers could keep her in view. ([dice=20] + 2 perception)
With the three of their souls at stake, she was gonna make damned sure they would win.[rand=2987199311610311682359619764611157535741780884566544058297295123]
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Post by Ferahgo on Jul 9, 2011 22:00:40 GMT -4
The lightly dressed woman smiles at Karalee before speaking.
"No no no hun, here at the Gold Goblin we play many games. Bounder, Ghoulette, Golem, and Skiffs are the house games. Bounder is a game of dice, Goulette is a game similar to a Quadiran game called "Roulette", Golem is a card game similar to poker, and Skiffs is...well...some kinda halfing game I'm not really all that familiar with, you'll need to speak with a dealer."
"Oh, and between you and me hun," her voice drops to a whisper, "these contracts aren't even real. They're just props to set the mood for the tourney."
With everyone's perception checks, you can see that there are many people milling around the gambling hall, but only a few actually playing any games. It seems that the tournament hasn't begun yet.
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Post by ehmioak on Jul 10, 2011 1:32:12 GMT -4
William slipped in with Solra, Uriel would make all the racket upon entering the room, but it was Will’s style he would tiptoe in, almost prancing toward a near wall. Eying the women and their costumes, Will sneered. He knew their like. He had been slapped, cussed and insulted by many like them some even more attractive if the run strong enough. The guards would no doubt eye him as he approached the chest to get a better look it, before sneering back to himself and looking around.
“Hmph.”
He had also seen the likes of these muscleheads before. He had been punched, kicked and thrown from a multitude of establishments by men just like this. But he’d never own up to such shortcomings, Will spoke only of his triumphs, and when those who stood against him were bested by William the Bloody. Though this title even came from a lie, after passing out in the hull of a fishing boat where a few rival pirates had been slaughtered by foes, William was mistaken for dead. When he returned, bloodstained, he told the masses of his accomplishments and unrivaled ruthlessness at sea.
He would prance up to the contract with a subtle, charismatic sneer to the girls and the guards, eying them up as well as any other competition (Perception)[dice=20]+. A smirk and nod before lifting the quill and signing the contract, “Seymour VanMureen.” He would nod, “You heard the man! Cards!”
[rand=853852928377018992548827861684061819766381377422828746993104860663]
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Post by Juniper on Jul 10, 2011 9:40:17 GMT -4
"Oh, and between you and me hun," her voice drops to a whisper, "these contracts aren't even real. They're just props to set the mood for the tourney." Karalee frowns at the woman, wary of her friendly, confidential tone. Sense Motive:[dice=20]+6 Still, she needs to eat, and even if these ten silvers are lost, there will be drinking and celebrating and bemoaning of loss and plenty of opportunities to pick the pockets of those contestants who aren't throwing in almost their last coin. She palms ten silver and sets them on the table in a neat stack that makes no noise as it hits the wood. (Slight of Hand)[dice=20]+8. Then she takes up the pen and writes her name. "I suppose the die is cast, then," she says with a smile. "Wish me luck." She doesn't wait for an answer, but slides to the back corner of the room, standing on a chair so she can continue to see, but otherwise inconspicuous.[rand=5471518630643986186335687890243638479974436836084646715959796553] |
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Post by Ferahgo on Jul 16, 2011 10:43:16 GMT -4
As the windows begin darkening with twilight, several gamehall employees enter, carrying torches shaped like pitchforks skewering burning heads made of straw and cloth to light several large braziers, giving the hall a more infernal hue. A hush falls over the gathered crowd as a short man climbs to the central podium, accompanied by two gorgeous “succubi,” and stands before the gold, chain-shrouded chest there with a demoness on either side. He wears a formal suit, and his thinning black hair is slicked back. His left arm ends in a stump just above the wrist, and affixed to it is a bronze cap from which protrudes an oddly shaped key. This is Saul
Vancaskerkin, the owner of the Gold Goblin and host of the tournament. He bows before the crowd and clears his throat
before speaking.
“Welcome, one and all, to the Gold Goblin Gambling Hall and your chance to cheat the Devil and win back not only your soul but all of his gold as well.” He says this last as he pats the large chest before which he stands. “I hope you found your reception by the Devil’s lovely temptresses suitably entertaining.”
This is met by a general murmur of laughter and a few catcalls.
“Let’s take this moment to thank Old Scratch himself for attending this event. Not only did he loan us these lovely, dark angels, but he also emptied the deepest vaults of Hell itself to provide the gold for this tournament.”
With this, Saul directs the crowd’s attention up to the imp in the birdcage. At the sudden attention, Old Scratch flies into a flurry of rage, banging the cage bars, spitting, howling, and screaming vile epithets in Infernal at all assembled. His theatrics are received with guffaws and even a smattering of applause. As the crowd dies down, Vancaskerkin continues.
“Of course, he plans on replacing what he loses in gold with the souls of those of you who don’t win. The tournament rules are quite simple—as you play, you’ll earn more chips. And with those chips, you’ll be able to bribe your way out of the current Hell you’re trapped in, working your way down deeper until you get to Old Scratch’s treasury. Currently, all of you are Old Scratch’s prisoners in the first of the Hells, Avernus. If you want to work your way down to the ninth circle, you need to win games. Each time you win, you’ll be awarded a golden eye. If you come in second, you’ll get a silver tooth. And third place wins a copper heart. These bits of flesh and bone are what the devils use in Hell for currency, and they’re what you’ll need to pay in order to bribe your way into the next layer
of hell. The first player to win a game after reaching Nessus not only keeps his winnings for that game, but also earns back his soul and
the ten thousand silver coins that the Devil put up for this tournament. You can, of course, decide to cash out your winnings
at any time you want, but if you do, or if you run out of money entirely… well, that means Old Scratch gets you.”
Vancaskerkin grins evilly and the caged imp cuts loose with another profane tirade.
“And that earns you the Devil’s Mark and an escort out of the game hall until the tournament is over. What, you ask, exactly is this Devil’s Mark? Well, it’s something too utterly horrible to even contemplate. The forfeiture of your very soul, it is. But I suppose I can show you what it is—gods know I more than deserve the Devil’s Mark. In fact, better make it two, girls!”
With that, the two succubi accompanying him lean over and each firmly plants a kiss on Saul’s cheek with her ruby-red lips. When they pull away, their lip rouge has left clearly visible prints in the same shocking red on his cheeks.
Saul beams as he cries out, “The Devil’s Mark, everyone!” which is greeted by a flurry of shouts, catcalls, and hoots. “Now, let’s cheat the Devil and take his gold!” which prompts one more rabid flurry from the imprisoned fiend above, and with that, the tournament begins.
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Post by comicsans12pt on Jul 18, 2011 21:45:59 GMT -4
Fiala looks around for some kind of indication on where to start. She dislikes all of the chaos although it does make her less conspicuous but it makes a lot of people less conspicuous. She scans the room for those who are not catcalling and ogling the succubi. Someone in back is standing on a chair.
She finds the imp distasteful but also distressing. I suppose it's better, she thinks, than letting him out and allowing him to do malicious mischief. Still, there's something about a cage that just has never set well. Him hanging there seems a fitting metaphor for what's going on outside.
She looks around. How the hell do i start at this?
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Post by ehmioak on Jul 19, 2011 16:52:49 GMT -4
Will looks about with the crowd, the mayhem and the noise excite him. He slips over to some of the people playing games and really seem to be taking it seriously. A twitched noise and lifted brow, he looks over someone's shoulder, checking to see who seems to be winning that most and just how they seem to be doing so, this way he could learn some strategy, or ideally how to cheat.
Perception Check: [dice=20]
From this point he would also be checking the guards/dealers(Assuming they're the same? If not the dealers.) for anything note worthy, badges of the sort that show them off as dealers.
Perception: [dice=20] A constant study of the game, Will would continue to pay mind to the goings on a round him for a hint, anything that could possibly give him a quick step to truly get this tournament going. He would lean his head into the nearest spectator,
“Truly an amazing game this. What is your favorite part?”
[rand=0378235289134919440935799603460521669347449485378844753030417498535]
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Post by Juniper on Jul 19, 2011 21:41:51 GMT -4
The continued chaos in the gambling hall looks like nothing but opportunity to Karralee, who clambers swiftly down from the table. She almost immediately disappears into the crowd.
Stealth: [dice=20]+12
Eyes wide open, she glances around for a likely mark, preferably a fellow player who seems inattentive to things outside his game.
Perception: [dice=20]+8
Her hand slides smoothly into a pocket, and she walks nonchalantly away with her prize, waiting until she is several steps away to see what she has got:
Sleight of Hand: [dice=20]+8
Nothing. Dammit.[rand=3407241136863132186740145990473954204290953901529427506729040771144]
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nick
Junior Member
The Last Gunslinger
Posts: 51
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Post by nick on Jul 19, 2011 23:27:05 GMT -4
With a confident swagger, Uriel walked over to the nearest gaming table and sat down. He flashed a confident grin at one of the nearest serving girls and spread his tokens out in front of him. "Wine, lovely." This would be fun.
---
The game progressed, and Uriel lounged back in his chair. He smiled at his opponents again, a predators grin that was all teeth and no joy.
[[Intimidate: [dice=20]+7]]
This was the part of the game he loved the most, when all you knew about your opponent was what you could read from them. And, what they could read from you. It wasn't even about truth and lies at this point, just stories. The story you told with your pose, the story you told with your eyes, and a dozen more. Of course, a good opponent knew all about these stories as well, knew that you were constructing your own tale of the game. It all became a question of whether or not they could believe what they believed those stories to be.
His favourite succubus-girl was standing beside him, and he pulled her over to his chair arm. "For luck then, my sultry succubus," he said and, turning back to the game, prepared to make his move.
[[Profession Gambler: [dice=20]+5]][rand=97563416001768145074875043494342091004024519891547653489609122466]
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Post by Ferahgo on Jul 20, 2011 10:40:34 GMT -4
Fiala, you notice people lining up to a counter where they seem to be exchanging money for colored wooden chips. This seems to be where most people go before they head off to the game tables.
Will, your first perception check allows you to see that the bouncers are making their rounds rather often, and that several players throughout the hall have already been tossed out. These players receive the devils mark via a slash of red paint before they're tossed out and do not return.
The difference between dealers and bouncers is very obvious. The bouncers all carry short swords and are all rather large men, while the dealers all wear the house uniform.
The man you spoke to grins up at you, (You're observing a Bounder table)
"My favorite part? It be just before the dealer tosses his dice. That moment of wait before you know if the dealer rolled badly."
Karralee, your successful stealth/perception/sleight of hand combination nets you 10 silver tooth chips.
Uriel, your show of intimidation against the other players at the table makes them all hesitant to bet against you (netting a +5 to your profession(gambler) check for a 25) this wins your initial bet plus 120%.
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